Circle Complete
by Echo Dancer
Summary: Final book in trilogy of Archangel and alien Emperor Ztar. Will Warren's sacrifices pay off? When can he go home? An old enemy rises. The bumpy road to a freer Empire continues. Twists, turns, and some 'steamy windows.' Warning: Male/Male relationship.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_Welcome to _Circle Complete_, the third book in the trilogy tale of Archangel and Emperor Ztar. If you haven't read the previous two books, _Sacrifice_ (part one) and _Esserru _(part two), I strongly encourage you to do so. Heads up – these are not quick reads. Each book is a full novel, but I hope the stories are worth the investment of time._

_A quick warning – the trilogy involves a male/male relationship, although Archangel is straight. If that sort of thing bothers you, then you may wish to skip over the steamy parts or take a pass altogether._

_Also, the Archangel of my story is pre-X-Force, where I understand that he can transform between Archangel and Death. In these stories, Warren is in his original form having moved past the blue skin/steel wings phase._

_A quick overview. In _Sacrifice_, alien Emperor Ztar, ruler of the Turzent Empire, forced Archangel into his service using Earth's freedom as the ax above Archangel's head to ensure total submission to the Emperor's will. In _Esserru_, Warren's life with the Emperor continued to evolve culminating in a decision Warren never believed he'd make of his own free will. _

_As _Circle Complete_ begins, it is five months after _Esserru_ ends and Warren has been Ztar's companion for five-plus Earth years. In this final story, Warren's conflicts continue over the path he chose and where his sacrifices will ultimately lead. Ztar's internal struggles also persist, as do the challenges he faces while the realm he built transitions from a dictatorship to a more democratic government. And an old enemy re-emerges just to add to the fun._

_Disclaimers and Pleas: I don't own Archangel or any X-man character. I do own Emperor Ztar and all the others. I make no money from this story and never will. _

_My plea is for feedback – any feedback. Whether you're reading this story as soon as published or a year later, your thoughts and reflections will brighten my day. So please post a review – whether long or short. _

_Thank you in advance for sharing my make-believe world for it's in that sharing the characters truly come alive._

_Echo Dancer_

"_When you write from the soul, the pen moves itself."_

###

**"Circle Complete"  
**

**Five Months Earlier… **

The request seemed reasonable enough. "…Please send all data files regarding the case of Wynnar-Qxani Disease in the patient known as Archangel to Director Plephner Esiar, Fjai Medical Research Facility. Your prompt response to this request is most sincerely appreciated as we continue our search for a cure."

Researchers working on the virus wished to examine exactly how Archangel was able to overcome the virus in its flow-blown stage. Wynnar-Qxani is fatal in 99.99% of the cases. Archangel was the only known survivor currently alive.

Although well contained outside its native star system, the disease was still enough of a threat to warrant significant research expenditure. Victims contracted the virus through blood-to-blood exchange. After the initial exposure, the virus multiples within the body, somehow avoiding detection by the host's immune system. Aside from reproducing, in all other ways the virus is inactive and the victim has no idea they are infected. It attaches itself to the nervous system and waits. Once triggered, the virus emerges from its dormant stage and the infected dies rapidly as it quickly destroys the nervous system.

He considered the pros and cons of the request. Fjai's reputation in medical study and research was without reproach. One of their pet projects was eradicating Wynnar-Qxani. In addition, Fjai already had quite a bit of medical data on Archangel from when he had contacted them hoping beyond hope they could help him save the Emperor's companion. Sending the balance of the data would only augment what Fjai already had.

Therefore, Chenro Vozeipar'de, Emperor Ztar's personal physician, had no qualms about sending the files. As a bonus, he included his hypothesis on why Archangel had survived – the nannites, which were possibly triggered and powered by Ztar's energy field. As the data went on its way, he got up from his desk with professional satisfaction that he may have in some small way contributed to an eventual cure for the W-Q virus.

Had he been able to somehow follow his missive through the complex workings of the highly secure interstellar comlink system, Physician Vozeipar'de would have been far less pleased. Both the request and the response were cloned in transit through a stealth subroutine. The original messages arrived at their intended destinations while the clones went another way altogether and no one was the wiser, except those who had clandestinely installed the extremely complex cloning routine into the comlink system.

### --- ###

Turzent Emperor Ztar wanted to let off some steam. He and the human had argued again, for the third time that week. Sometimes Archangel was so damn bitchy! It was a term he'd learned from the man and it fit the situation perfectly. Day by day, little by little, he suspected his companion's true personality was coming through. Now that the human was free to stay or go, he was obviously becoming comfortable enough to be himself. Ztar wasn't sure he liked what he was seeing.

A few months earlier, Ztar freed the human for all practical purposes from the Turzent/Earth Accord that had bound and subjugated Archangel to him for nearly five Imperial years to protect Earth's autonomy and its peoples' liberty. In what he could only call a miracle, Archangel decided to stay with Ztar. When Archangel fully comprehended all his newfound freedom meant a few days after Ztar released him, Sukja warned Ztar they'd argue. His aide had gone so far as to offer his couch should Ztar be tossed from the bedchambers. At the time, Ztar hadn't thought there would be quite so much butting of heads. Archangel's strong will was definitely rearing up. And Archangel dared to complain Ztar was stubborn!

That morning's fight was about something trivial. Ztar offered Archangel some pointers on how Sukja used to perform a task recently delegated to the human. Archangel blew. _Again_. He was trying to be helpful, Ztar had attempted to explain rationally. "Same old nitpicking!" Archangel labeled it with verbal venom. "Sukja's perfect and I'm not" was the next accusation. Perhaps Archangel was heading into another molt with all its irrational irritability. With the human's body clock so confused from the change of planets and the stresses from the past year, there was no telling when that might happen again.

Three meaningless arguments in as many days and Ztar needed to direct his growing annoyance at something before he really blew. The only question was at what. He headed out of the palace at a brisk pace toward the open countryside. A few well-placed energy blasts at some defenseless rocks might relieve the tension. The Emperor nearly crackled with energy as he strode away from the manicured grounds.

###

Warren wanted to kick some ass, but there was no danger room at the palace. The Emperor was completely intolerable this week. Nothing Warren did was exactly right. Bitch, bitch. Moan, moan. Only a saint could bear it. 'What was I thinking when I agreed to stay? This healing Ztar business wasn't supposed to include enduring the whining of a spoiled brat!' Warren fumed as he flew above the Imperial Valley on the planet Sat'rey where Ztar's palace resided.

Then there was the control thing. Ztar wanted to make all the decisions, right down to where they ate dinner – their chambers, the patio, or balcony. Warren felt kept. It was growing more infuriating by the day.

As he cut through the late afternoon air with sharp movements, he pushed himself to the limit – flat out speed, quick course changes, sudden stops, and tricky maneuvers. He had worked up a sweat even in the cool winter air by the time he saw the small explosion from half way across the Imperial Valley. Sharp vision told him it was Ztar. What was he up to? He turned and headed toward the action. As Warren came in closer, Ztar let another barrage loose at nothing but the landscape. Apparently Warren wasn't the only one blowing off steam.

"Those rocks must have really pissed you off," Warren jabbed as he alighted a distance away from the shimmering Turzent.

Ztar ignored the human. This was his time to be alone and an audience was not welcome, especially not the source of his aggravation.

Warren walked toward Ztar. "Ah, the silent treatment – always so mature," he said with reigniting exasperation.

Ztar shot a quick, lethal look at the human. "Perhaps there's another target you would suggest?"

The Emperor's meaning was not lost on Warren and it made him burn. "Let's do it, right here. I'm looking to kick some butt today!"

Ztar was surprised. Was Archangel serious? "I'm not fighting you," he said flatly, crossing his arms.

"Why not? Afraid I'll beat you?" Warren taunted, halting a few feet in front of the Emperor. The shimmering was fading as Ztar apparently let the built-up energy leach off.

"Not likely."

"Not likely if you use telepathy. But if you don't, I'll kick your ass in less than two minutes." Warren goaded with confidence.

"You're not serious."

"I am. I'm in need of a workout partner and you're definitely someone liked like to punch out a few times." Warren snapped his wings to drive home the point, crossing his own arms.

Ztar was uncertain what to do. Archangel was challenging him to a fight, yet it felt so…unroyal. Perhaps his beautiful Archangel was a little more of a warrior than Ztar had realized, even after knowing the human for five years. Still, a physical confrontation held its appeals. It had been awhile…

"Come on, almighty emperor, show me what you've got." Warren crouched, spreading his wings slowly into attack position. "I'm going to wipe up the valley floor with your sorry ass." This was going to feel so-o-o good!

"If I can't use my telepathy, you must surrender an ability also," Ztar wanted the rules of engagement to be understood and he would not be handicapped unequally.

"No flying. My feet stay firmly planted on the ground."

###

Lar had sent his usual scout to keep an eye on the Emperor while he took his frustrations out on the rocks and plant life. It was nothing new – the Emperor had done so before when mounting aggravations needed an outlet. The man was crouched behind his blind, watching the confrontation with intense interest. Archangel was a new twist. He couldn't hear any of the conversation, but the Emperor's companion looked decidedly hostile.

###

"This may actually be quite fun, my Archangel, since I can't really damage you too badly. You'll heal quickly from my trouncing," Ztar taunted, the old battle-itch beginning to grow.

"In your dreams!" and Warren sprung without warning directly at the Turzent. He lied. His feet did come off the ground when he jumped with powerful legs, but his wings he kept neatly at his sides.

Their bodies collided with enough force that Ztar was staggered backwards. Warren rammed a fist deep into the Turzent's abdomen and he heard a satisfying groan. Just as he caught the back of Ztar's knee with his foot to knock the man's leg out from under him, Ztar grabbed his arm and flung him several feet to the side. Warren landed with a whoomph on the hard ground in a cloud of dust while Ztar managed to keep his footing. 'Damn! Ztar's taking this seriously.'

###

The man on the knoll commed the security office. "Sir, we have an incident out here."

Back at the palace, Head of Palace Security Cronit Lar was instantly concerned. "What kind of incident?"

"The Emperor and Archangel…they're fighting."

Lar was relieved. He'd gotten reports of the two men arguing a number of times now. Palace gossip was very quick to spread around anything regarding the Emperor and his companion. "Is that all? Not worth reporting, Reboct."

"No, sir. I mean they're _fighting_! As in hitting each other."

"Drods!" Lar swore in his native language into the comm. Now what? He knew about Archangel's healing ability, so he wasn't too concerned about the human. But his Emperor? Yet Ztar was a tough, full-blooded Turzent – it took a lot to seriously injure that species. And the man used to be in the military, had his energy blasts, telepathy, and his augmented strength. Yes, Ztar could take care of himself. Lar sat back in his chair and relaxed.

"Sir, what do you want me to do?" the scout asked, concern coming through the comm.

"Enjoy the show," Lar replied looking forward to a detailed report from Reboct later.

###

When Warren hit the ground, it knocked the wind out of him. He had to admit, Ztar's quick move surprised him – the Turzent was not to be underestimated. Rolling immediately to his feet, he lunged at his target again. Ztar attempted to sidestep this time, but Warren anticipated the move and landed a quick punch to the Emperor's side. Then for good measure, he nailed him in back with a sharp elbow as momentum carried him pass the Turzent. The Emperor exhaled sharply and staggered from the impacts, but remained standing.

Warren swung around and was going for a grab from behind when Ztar's energy field suddenly flared and engulfed him. Liquid fire ran over his body, at least that's what it felt like. He let out a yelp and jumped back out of the field. "No fucking fair! This was to be without powers!"

"You said no telepathy. Nothing was mentioned of my energy field," Ztar grinned fiendishly, as he turned to the human.

Warren groaned internally – the Emperor was right. He never believed Ztar would use his bio-energy against him. Obviously, he was wrong. "I guess if you need to resort to that, you can use your goddamn energy field!" Warren leaned over and moaned as if in pain, which he actually was, but he exaggerated it. Ztar hesitated out of apparent concern for his companion and Warren wasn't about to let that go unrewarded. With lighting speed he took advantage of Ztar's uncertainty, scooping up and throwing a handful of dirt directly into Turzent's face. While the Emperor recoiled from the dirt in the eyes, Warren lunged directly at his mid-section with as much strength as his body contained.

'I fell for that old trick?!' Ztar was incredulous at himself as he landed hard, the air expelled from his lungs, and several small rocks found their mark across his back. 'Out of practice.' Ztar tried grabbing the human again, but he eluded Ztar's blind reach as tears ran from his eyes.

Warren quickly slid off Ztar, leveraged himself and landed one solid punch to Ztar's jaw when the fire spread over his body again. "Goddamn son of a bitch!" His muscles contracted involuntarily from the assault as he tried to ignore the excruciating pain. He knew he'd heal from whatever the energy was doing to him physically, but it hurt like hell!

The Emperor took advantage of the partial paralysis his energy field was causing in Archangel, snared him by the front of his shirt and threw him head over heels a couple dozen feet across the valley floor. He'd used those seconds it took Archangel to recover to clear his eyes of the dirt. 'Archangel fights dirty – literally!'

Both men got to their feet at the same time, Ztar rubbing his jaw and blinking away the remnants of sand and Warren trying to shake off the effects of the bio-energy. "Your right hook is still a mean one," Ztar complimented with a smile. He was enjoying himself. The physical outlet felt good. He moved in on his target leisurely, ignoring the smarting at the various impact points.

"I can show you more, if you admire it so much," Warren grinned back. Despite the remnants of pain and momentary paralysis, he was enjoying the roughhousing. It felt like the good ol' days in the danger room.

This time, Ztar lunged first. The Turzent's move was fast, but Warren was faster. Dodging with ease, he nailed Ztar in the back once again as the Emperor's body flew past him. Ztar grunted, but then surprised Warren by turning sharply to grab a handful of wing and yanked sideways and downward. Warren was literally pulled off his feet and fell backward to the ground with a thud. The pain shot across his back and wing joints with the impact on the hard ground and moaned loudly. 'Damn! Quicker than I thought!'

"Wings make good grab handles," Ztar said chuckling as his companion hit the dirt again.

As lightening fast as his reflexes were, Warren didn't quite escape Ztar's move to come down on top of him, the Emperor straddling his hips. "Yield!" Ztar demanded, grabbing one of Warren's arms in a fierce grip; the other he managed to keep free. Warren almost decided against it, but seeing how Ztar had literally opened himself up to the move…

When Archangel's free fist came down on his groin, pain shot through him like nothing he'd experienced in a long time. Doubling over, he could do little when Archangel shoved him off. The human jumped to his feet, he leaned over the curled Emperor. "I can't believe you made such an amateur's mistake!"

Neither could Ztar. 'Stupid!'

###

"Reboct, report." Lar's voice came over the comm.

"I think the Emperor made a serious miscalculation. He's on the ground."

"Really?" Lar was surprised. He knew the human was a warrior on his home planet, but Ztar was a formidable opponent.

###

Ztar's Turzent body was tough and he recovered more quickly than Archangel obviously anticipated from the look of surprise when Ztar scissor-cut his legs out from under him.

Warren felt the impact to his ankles and instinctively the wings spread wide as he toppled forward and beat once to grab air to keep upright. 'Now who's getting sloppy!' he chided himself.

As Archangel fought to stay vertical, Ztar reached out and grabbed one extended arm, pulling Archangel down atop him face to face. He wrapped one arm around Archangel's back to restrain him and the other behind the head. In another quick move, he took Archangel's mouth into his in a savage kiss. 'Yes, I'm enjoying this more and more,' the Emperor commented silently.

Warren struggled at first, then allowed the Emperor to have his prize. He'd concede the brief fight.

###

"Sir," Reboct commed security, "the situation has been resolved."

"What's happening?"

"They're kissing, sir."

Lar smiled. "That'll be all, Reboct. Return to the palace."

###

When Ztar finally released Archangel's mouth, he looked into his companion's crystalline-blue eyes. "Good move, that last one, don't you agree?" he congratulated himself.

Ztar's face was coated with dirt and Warren attempted to wipe some off, laughing because he only made it worse from the dirt on his hands. "The lip-lock maneuver or the one before that?" feeling the grit in his mouth as he spoke.

"Now that you mention it, both were rather impressive."

Warren looked into the dirty but handsome face. Mischief still twinkled in the large, dark chocolate brown, whiteless eyes – 'puppy dog eyes' some of the female X-men would have labeled them. Then he got up and held a hand out to the Turzent. Once the man was upright, Warren leaped into the air. "First one back to the palace gets the shower!" and he was off like a dart.

All Ztar could do was laugh aloud and start walking.

###

By the time he got back to the palace, Ztar knew exactly his retribution. There would be no escape. 'Paybacks are hell,' as he heard Archangel exclaim one occasion and liked the phrase. This was going to be thoroughly enjoyable! He smiled with anticipation.

The roughhousing in the valley had energized him and was an aspect of their relationship he wanted to explore further. Could they be sparring partners regularly? Now that he'd gotten a taste, Ztar wanted more. And perhaps this could be another step in their deepening relationship – another way to bond. He hoped that was the case.

Then he heard the door slide open.

Warren finished showering, still smirking at leaving Ztar open-mouthed and covered in dust and dirt out in the valley. He had the last laugh with that one! Flapping his wings to shed water – those had been hard to rid of the ground-in dirt and it took time. Warren allowed himself the immature satisfaction of making the Emperor wait quite awhile for the bathroom. He dried the rest of himself before wrapping the towel around his waist. 'Much better!' he thought, loving the feel of being squeaky clean once again. He opened the bathroom door to head to his wardrobe for equally clean clothes, preferably a comfy pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Warren made it one step beyond the doorway when he was blindsided.

In one swift movement, Ztar was next to the human, one arm behind Archangel's back just below the wings and the other behind his knees, then all he had to do was lift and three quick paces they were at the bed. "What the-?" were the only words the human could get out before Ztar had him pinned beneath his strong body on the bed.

He grinned down wickedly at his companion. "Thought you could just leave me out there with no repercussions?"

"Ztar, for God's sake, let me up. You're dirty and sweaty and I just showered!" The words were harsh, but the empathic connection told Ztar the human was only startled, not angry.

"Exactly. Now you're going to get all dirty again," he warned just as he came down seductively on the perfect mouth.

Warren struggled, but the Turzent was firmly planted atop him. In spite of Warren's own mutant strength, he was no match for Ztar's augmented power. 'Ztar apparently liked our little battle,' Warren concluded with amusement as the kiss deepened. 'Picking up where we left off!'

He brought his knees up on either side of Ztar to get more leverage. Lust radiated off the man and mingled with the scent of sweat and desert sand. Then without warning, something happened that hadn't for many weeks. Part of him was back in that terrorist's cell, lying on the filthy pad on the floor, one of Drex's men on him. Remembered pain, the smell of sweat and sex, the humiliation and horror tried to wrest hold of his mind. 'No! Not real…not now!' he yelled at himself. As vivid memory threatened to overpower reality, he struggled to maintain control while shielding Ztar from the episode; nearly an impossible feat given the telepath's empathic link with him, but he was determined. He squelched the fear and dread as best he could, focusing on the man still kissing him and the feel of Ztar's hands on his body. _Ztar's_ hands, not a terrorist's. Warren kept repeating the Turzent's name in his mind. 'This is Ztar. Ztar.' Then as quickly as it had formed, the flashback evaporated and Warren let out a sigh into Ztar's mouth.

The Emperor felt an exhale from his companion and then realized there were odd emotions filling the empathic link. Ztar jerked up and looked into Archangel's eyes. "Archangel?"

Warren shook off the last vestiges of episode and immediately took advantage of Ztar's distraction – it would help divert attention from the near flashback. Using all his strength, he rose up one hip to put Ztar off balance, adding a strong shove with his arm to the Turzent's shoulder, he continued to push with all his might to dislodge his captor. He almost succeeded. It worked, though, to redirect Ztar's attention.

Ztar laughed, grabbing Archangel's wrists as the smaller man tried to dismount him. "You've been captured, my prey. Yield…again!"

"You're getting dirt on the bed, Ztar. You can strip it – I'm not having housekeeping clean up after you," Warren threatened in feigned irritation, trying to free his wrists.

"There's only one thing I'm stripping and it's not the bed." Letting go of one wrist, Ztar grabbed and yanked Archangel's towel away.

"Hey!" Warren protested. Ztar ran his still dust-coated hand over Warren's chest, shoulder, and onto the left wing. "Double hey! Do you know how hard it was getting the dirt out of the feathers? Now," Warren looked to his wing where a brown streak was clearly visible on the damp, white feathers, "I'll have to clean them all over again."

Ztar laughed heartily. Archangel spoke as if perturbed, but Ztar felt the amusement through their connection. "Then I'll have to help with that," Ztar offered in a suggestive tone. Not once in the five years they'd been together had they shared a shower. It just hadn't been something Ztar particularly wished to do – a cultural thing actually. Turzents had a clear separation in their psyche between sex and grooming rituals. Even when he helped Archangel preen his feathers, Ztar never once crossed that line no matter how aroused he became at the intimate contact. But now, perhaps, it was something he wanted to explore.

Ztar's comment got Warren's full attention. 'That's new,' he thought, not so sure he wanted to go there. Warren had been quite happy with Ztar's unspoken decision not to co-shower. Now that may be changing. Should he give another piece of himself to the Turzent? Xavier's words of warning came back to him – "Don't lose yourself to Ztar." He decided to ignore the comment for now.

The lack of response spoke volumes to Ztar, as he leaned down to take another kiss from his lover. He focused on the empathic connection and the emotions were decidedly not in his favor. 'Let it go,' he told himself. 'Archangel has already given you so much.' He was actually pleased with himself for that decision as it placed the human's wishes ahead of his own, something he knew he must remember to do with regularity. It would be so easy to take advantage of Archangel's commitment to help Ztar heal emotionally; to push him into giving more than he should.

And so Ztar focused instead on igniting sexual heat in his companion, running his hands up and down the perfect body, caressing all the right spots. He trailed his lips from Archangel's, down the neck and to his chest, while his fingertips tickled and tantalized a wing, causing it to quiver. Ztar shifted to run his mouth across the wing and took a deep inhale. He loved the smell of the damp feathers – they smelled slightly of animal and old, favorite blanket. Ztar found it both soothing and erotic. Archangel spread the wing wide, a sign that Ztar was doing the right things. The sound of feathers moving across the bed sparked intense desire in him. 'Such a little thing and I'm on fire!' By the gods, he loved his companion.

Warren closed his eyes and melted into the erotic pleasures Ztar was bestowing on him. 'God, he does things to me no one else can.' Ztar swept him away; filled Warren with such fire that he'd often thought he'd burst into flames. What never failed to amaze him was that another man could do this to him despite Warren's heterosexual nature. But good sex is good sex – a great sex is even better. That was all he could conclude. And sex with Ztar was beyond anything he'd experienced prior. As Ztar combed his fingers through the feathers, Warren moaned with the ripples of sensual delight that simple motion elicited. He put a hand to each side of Ztar's face and turned it to look him in the eyes. "You've ruined me for anyone to follow. No one else will ever measure up. You know that, right?" Warren asked with a salacious grin.

Ztar looked into the blue eyes now darkened with lust. "All part of the plan," he admitted, almost too honestly.

Warren brought the Turzent's mouth down to his, entwining their tongues for a brief dance. Pulling back, he nipped the man's lips and brushed his mouth past the cheek and nuzzled the Turzent's neck. He entangled his fingers in Ztar's thick, crimson-black hair and held on as Ztar's skilled hand found that special place at the wing base where Warren could be driven nearly to orgasm with the right touch. Ztar knew that touch very well – he'd invented it – and Warren's whole body shuddered with delightful arousal that raced through his body all the way to his toes. "Oh, god…" escaped his lips. Just that quick, Warren burst into flames. He wanted to be taken now.

Their connection was on fire and Ztar knew Archangel wanted to move things along. Many times he would not, preferring to draw out the sex as long as possible, but today he'd accommodate Archangel's urgent need. First, just a little more fire stoking…

A few strong tugs on his clothes and they were literally ripped from Ztar's body and his tailor's work was once again tossed to the floor in tatters. Ztar ran his hand down between their bodies to where this would go soon and his massaged and coddled with exquisite results. Archangel moaned beneath him as the human's fingers dug deeply into his forearm.

Warren lapsed quickly into the state where nothing existed beyond the bed and Ztar. It was rapturous and he sank into it wholly. Then he returned Ztar's favor and escalated the desire in the Turzent. Ztar's moans and gentle tremors signaled Warren's success. When Ztar lowered himself down on Warren's chest once again, Warren whispered urgently the words he knew Ztar loved to hear. "Take me."

Archangel could say those two words or a variation thereof a hundred thousand times and Ztar believed he would never stop marveling at them. After everything between them, his companion was surrendering to him willingly. It filled a need so deep, so intense that Ztar had no words to describe it. He came down for a kiss of gratitude and then shifted his lover to take him as requested. Gently at first, and then more powerfully, driving deep into the man who made Ztar's life complete. He reveled in the carnal pleasure of plunging in and out of his beloved, never wanting it to stop.

Nature had been kind to Turzents, giving both sexes natural lubrication; nothing artificial needed for same-sex pairings. It was one of the many factors leading to Turzent psyche and culture never developing taboos relating to gender in sexual pairings. Same-gender, opposite-gender – it was all the same in their eyes. Ztar had learned humans, on the other hand, usually had strong gender preferences.

When Ztar came inside his companion, that recollection flickered through his mind, re-enforcing how much Archangel put aside for Ztar's sake. Archangel was same-sex oriented and nothing would ever change that. The knowing served to push Ztar harder to make their time together in the bedchamber as blissful and rewarding for the human as Ztar was capable. And Ztar was very capable. The moans and empathic signals coming from his companion told Ztar he'd done everything right once again, and he smiled down on the beautiful being beneath him as he continued to ride his lover.

The feel of Ztar's penetration left him shuddering in relief and anticipation. Ztar's entry was smooth and steady, allowing Warren's body time to accommodate the very large Turzent. Once Ztar was fully embedded, the exquisite thrusting could begin. Warren was building to climax, but as was typical, his body seemed to wait for Ztar's. Yet Ztar was apparently in no hurry, no matter how urgently needful Warren was. So Warren grasped Ztar's arms, closed his eyes, and let Ztar ride him for as long as the Turzent wished, wrapped in the ever-increasing intensity of the sensations surging through him. The rhythmic thrusts and their heavy breathing synched up and quickened.

The thrusting found his sweet spot. Warren gasped and his body clamped down around the Emperor's shaft. They groaned in unison as liquid heat ran through their groins. When Ztar spilled into him, his own body responded in kind. Warren dug his fingernails into Ztar's arms and shuddered in the sweet ecstasy of release.

Spent, Ztar laid down next to Archangel to catch his breath and recover. His hand found the human's, and he laced his fingers through Archangel's. It was something he hadn't done before and suddenly wondered why not. Then he turned on his side to face Archangel, careful not to hurt the wing partially beneath him. Gazing into the human's content face, he brushed a stray lock of hair from the flushed cheek.

Warren watched Ztar's eyes as they studied his own. Warm feelings enveloped him. He didn't love this man, but he did find himself caring more deeply for him with each passing month. It frightened Warren a little – the proverbial slippery slope?

Ztar picked up on the tender feelings mingled with a touch of…apprehension? Concern? Something subtle. It was the warmth that Ztar latched on to. If it could only be possible, by some miracle, that Archangel would grow to love him. Yet Ztar believed he had already received his share of miracles where Archangel was concerned. The simple fact that the human was here in his bed willingly was miracle enough.

"Have I said lately how much I love you?" he asked with a gentle smile and a brush of his thumb across the cheek.

Warren closed his eyes to focus on the afterglow of sex. "You have," he answered in a whisper.

Ztar wanted to ask if Archangel could ever love him, but he would not. That would likely never be, at least not the kind of love Ztar felt toward Archangel. Friendship love – perhaps that was possible. Ztar would gratefully take that if Archangel was willing.

"I'll keep saying it, just so you don't forget."

Warren shot his eyes open. "Oh, I won't forget. Just like all your sweet talk won't make me forget that you got me all dirty and sweaty again."

Ztar chuckled, moving off the feathers and running the back of his still somewhat dirty hand down the right wing, leaving another streak. "I said there would be repercussions for abandoning your Emperor."

"I think you're just a sore loser!" Warren said sitting up, locking eyes with Ztar.

"Loser?!" Ztar let shock fill his face as he returned Archangel's gaze. "I seem to recall trouncing you."

Warren slid from the bed. "Like hell you did! I let you win," he goaded.

Ztar sat up quickly. "There is no truth in your words, my Archangel."

"Besides, kissing an opponent is against all rules of engagement," Warren shot a quick scowl at Ztar as he headed for the bathroom. "You didn't fight fair."

Ztar leaped out of the bed realizing that Archangel was going to get there before him again. He wasn't fast enough.

"Ha! Beat you to it!" were Archangel's parting words as the door slid shut and locked.

Once again, all Ztar could do was laugh and shake his head.

### --- ###

Head Researcher Hercjell al'Verta was beyond pleased with her newest project. To have been selected over many of her long-time fellow scientists/rivals was a testament to her skills as a researcher and her savvy maneuverings to ensure she always shined in the eyes of her superiors even if that meant a few people got hurt along the way. Casualties of war, as she referred to them.

The PI in her office was loaded every piece of medical data they could obtain on the human called Archangel, birth name Warren Kenneth Worthington. The files from Ztar's personal physician, who also tended Archangel, were quite helpful. Etagllot intelligence had acquired those records when Ztar's physician transmitted them to Fjai. Even with the limited equipment in the palace infirmary, Physician Chenro Vozeipar'de managed to acquire an impressive amount of data. It was extremely unfortunate that his medical scanners went offline during Archangel's astonishing return from death. Had they not, they may have captured the bionites in action, if they indeed had been reawakened. 'Damn the luck anyway!' she muttered to herself.

Etagllot intelligence operatives had mined databases on Earth and came away with records on the human dating back to his birth through late childhood. Medical records through traditional sources then suddenly ceased. They hit the jackpot, though, when breaking into the well-protected databanks in a place referred to in the report as the Xavier Institute. The files contained an incredibly detailed medical history since the human's sixteenth Earth year of life through near present day. Whoever had been responsible for entering that data had given Hercjell a huge leg-up on her project. She could bypass many standard protocols for baselining new research subjects and dive right into the heart of the study.

What most interested Hercjell was the time following Archangel's impregnation with the bionites. From the Institute records, it was obvious much time had been spent attempting to unravel their technology, but with negligible results. She noted that since their original programming had been executed, the bionites were reported dormant and nothing had triggered them since. She also read with keen interest that the Shi'ar had attempted to rid the human of the bionites and the failure of that effort. Little else was recorded of that attempt. Hercjell would give much to obtain the Shi'ar files. The incident also drove home how advanced the bionite technology was if even the vaunted Shi'ar could not remove it. Hercjell had her work cut out for her.

The Par-Sen scientist sat back in her chair to digest what she had learned from studying the files for several hours. Based on all she read, reactivating the incredibly advanced technology was likely the only way to understand how it worked. However, despite numerous events that should have triggered the technology the bionites had remained dormant. That was going to be her biggest obstacle. Yet if Vozeipar'de was correct, there was a known trigger – Emperor Ztar's bio-field. Without highly detailed data on the Turzent's energy patterns, she had no way to replicate it. She could make educated guesses, but the project needed to show results quickly her superiors had informed her. No time to test energy pattern after energy pattern.

And so it came down to one logical conclusion – her research required both subjects. Obviously, that was not going to go over well. Acquiring the human would be difficult enough. Also kidnapping the Emperor would be a monumental feat.

She had confidence, though, in the resourcefulness of their organization. After all, they had survived Ztar's attempted genocide of their members years ago to rise up and flourish once again, albeit secretly of course. Many within the organization would find much satisfaction in Ztar becoming their research subject once again. It would be interesting to see if the orchestrator of the Etagllot's near extermination left her facility alive. But that wasn't her call or concern; she only needed him alive long enough to serve her needs.

With those thoughts, she let her mind wander back to when she first heard of the Etagllot. al'Verta had become frustrated with the established scientific community and its restrictions, safeguards, and rules on how to conduct projects, especially cutting-edge research. How could one be expected to produce results when at every turn another precaution, protocol, or restriction was erected? Frustrations grew as pressures to show return on investment mounted, as well as the consternations of colleagues for her willingness to take shortcuts.

Then the Etagllot approached her; so speaking to her ambitious nature with their liberal methods of accomplishing an end. They recognized her brilliance and acknowledged that traditional science didn't understand that breaking new frontiers sometimes meant breaking the rules. "Join us," they said, "and antiquated rules no longer apply to you. Your methods will rarely be questioned as long you show progress. You needn't grovel for funding from this time forward. All we ask is that you work with commitment and loyalty on the projects to which you are assigned. Place your trust in us, al'Verta, you will be assigned to projects that challenge and stretch you personally and professionally."

It was a dream come true! The price for membership to the exclusive club was a little steep, but she paid it willingly. She was to disappear and contact with the people of her former life forbidden. Since she had no strong family ties, she adjusted well. As she moved from project to project, she was challenged and threw herself into her work. al'Verta worked her way up the ladder, learning along the way that even in the Etagllot scientific organization, politicking and maneuverings were required to climb the ranks. Hercjell al'Verta had no qualms about playing the game and found she was very good at it. She climbed to the position of Assistant Head Researcher in near record time. The next rung on the ladder was a tad more of a reach, but she finally was assigned her own project and research team three years ago. Ymoz was her fourth project as Head Researcher and her most challenging thus far.

Much was riding on this project she was informed by the Prime Director for her branch of the organization, bio-technology. Hers was one project in a collection of on-going research programs all working independently but in unison for an unrevealed ultimate goal. That was all her security clearance would allow her superior to share. She was not offended by the withholding of more information as in every organization there are secrets. All she needed to know was she would be part of a major scientific undertaking and it inspired her.

And that major undertaking must be worth a huge amount of risk. It was a pie-in-the-sky discussion she'd had with the Prime Director that acquiring the Turzent Empire's leader as a co-test subject may be crucial to her research. She was shocked when he encouraged her to include that in her resource request. The _Emperor_?! Was the Prime Director actually serious? He was, implying that justice would be served as well as science.

As much as Hercjell wanted the Emperor as part of her studies, having the Turzent in her facility who was a lethal weapon three times over gave her pause. Ztar was a physical powerhouse thanks to the Etagllot scientists' augmentation program many years prior. The Turzent could quite literally snap a body in two without breaking a sweat. Add to that his natural mutation of a potent bio-energy field that could kill from some distance. As if that wasn't enough, Ztar was an amazingly powerful telepath, almost sui generis according to reports, and could easily control or kill with a thought.

The Etagllot organization prided itself on recruiting the most skilled and powerful of identified telepaths. Yet with as many telepaths as they had in their ranks, none came close to rivaling Ztar's telepathic depth, breadth, and potency. Most telepaths she knew about were specialists in one form or another. Ztar seemed to have the full range of gifts and masterfully used them all.

The only being that perhaps came close was Archangel's fellow human named Charles Xavier. The more the Etagllot learned of him, the more they desired to know. Actually, Earth's entire naturally occurring mutant population made Etagllot scientists salivate. The little backwater, pre-FTL planet was a treasure trove of genetic goodies, but that was for other research teams to exploit.

Tomorrow, Hercjell would submit her study strategy and required resources, the human and the Turzent ruler being at the top of the list. Included in her proposal was the plan for controlling the powerful Turzent as a pre-emptive move to assuage security concerns. That way, she thought with pride, if they endorsed her protocols and something went wrong, the blame could be spread around. Once submitted, all she could do was wait for approval and for her research subjects to be delivered.

### --- ###

Warren sat on the ground, leaning back against the bench with its leg between his wings, feathers spread out on the soft grass that was immaculately clean. He suspected Moit'de ordered the grounds staff to keep his favorite spot in the gardens particularly well kept to avoid dirtying his wings. The sun was pleasantly warm on the cool Sat'rey winter day. The rainy season had mostly passed and Warren was glad for any time he could spend outside.

His mind drifted from the book he'd borrowed from Atichi to consider his circumstances for what seemed like the zillionth time over the past five-plus years. Roughly seven Imperial months ago, he had decided to stay with Ztar even though the Emperor had freed him. While an extremely difficult choice, Warren believed it had been the right one. Ztar was focused on the transition and emotionally stable and content. It's what was needed as the sometimes tumultuous governmental change took place. If the transition was a success, then all the peoples of the Turzent Empire would benefit, including Earth.

While the exact relationship Earth would have with the Empire after the transition had yet to be worked out, privy Earth leaders would likely need to decide whether their little world was ready to become more active on the galactic scene and request full-membership or choose to remain uninvolved and ask to be on the Empire's non-interference list of pre-FTL worlds. Warren knew what Xavier's choice was on that issue – non-interference. He strongly believed humanity was not ready to deal with issues beyond its own world. Yet it wasn't up to Xavier, and in a discussion with Ztar, it may not be Earth's choice at all. The Empire may simply determine that Earth should remain off limits and isolated until they felt humans would be a positive addition. The Emperor said at the time that perhaps he should discuss the issue with Xavier. Warren encouraged that.

And so, everything seemed to be on an even keel with Ztar as far as the transition and the Empire was concerned, but was the Turzent moving in the direction Warren wanted him to go personally – from needing Warren to only wanting Warren? Big difference between the two. At the moment, Ztar still needed him; sometimes desperately so. That desperation did seem to be easing, however; ever so slowly. There was no obvious change in Ztar that one could see as a casual observer; it was more in his manner toward Warren, his choice of words, and in the emotions emanating from the Turzent.

Most noticeable was the change in bed. Ztar was the most intense lover Warren had ever had or had even imagined existed. Early on, Ztar's emotional and sexual hunger was so powerful Warren had seriously thought it would consume him as well. He had often wondered if there was enough of him to sate the Turzent's private famine. Ztar kept needing more and more of him, taking physically, mentally, psychically, emotionally, spiritually every bit of energy and life Warren possessed. At times, it felt as though even all of that wasn't sufficient. There were signs, though, that the almost insatiable, ravenous hunger was becoming less acute. Was he finally filling the deep void that had nearly consumed the Turzent?

On the flipside, there was the control issue. Ztar wanted to be the boss. Despite proclaiming that Warren was of the royal court with all the inherent freedoms and power that came with that position, Ztar called the shots. "I've planned a trip for us." "Tonight we'll dine on the patio." "Today we're doing such and such." "Let me explain how this is done." Granted, Ztar was an Emperor and with that comes a level of bossiness that shouldn't be unexpected, but there is a difference between work and private life. Ztar's bossiness carried over into their personal relationship. It was causing them to butt heads more and more often.

Bottom line, Warren saw progress in many areas, other areas needed work. Ztar still needed Warren, but perhaps over the next few months he'd come to merely want him. Meanwhile, Warren would stay with Ztar until the Emperor was healed enough to truly let him go or until the government transition was complete. He still held to the belief he'd know when Ztar had made his own personal transition.

Warren rose up from the ground and stretched his wings wide. Time for a little romp in the sky, as Ztar had labeled it long ago, to shake off the stiffness from sitting too long. He set the book on the bench. 'Beautiful day for flying,' he thought as he leapt into the aqua-blue Sat'rey firmament.

###

Merryth decided to take in the beautiful day with a stroll through the gardens, something she decided she should do more often. It was a chance to get out into the sun and away from the hubbub inside the palace. She wove through the pathways and came around a corner shrub just as Archangel took to the air. It caught her by surprise and as it never failed to do, the sight of Archangel taking wing took her breath away.

'So beautiful!' she thought in her usual awe of the human. 'What would it be like to fly? To be free like that?' The longing to know that kind of freedom ran deep.

She watched as he flew out over the palace grounds and beyond until he was out of sight. Then she saw the book Archangel had apparently left behind on the bench and picked it up. Strange that he would have an actual book and not read on his PI. Looking at the cover she saw it was a book amazingly enough she herself had read titled _Shards_. She remembered the story fondly of a young, orphan space explorer who was in search of more than adventure. He was on a quest to find his long lost people.

She opened it and read the inscription inside. "To Atichi – my dear friend, my confidante, and fellow admirer of the printed word. Enjoy! Sukja."

'Atichi?' She'd heard the name before, but couldn't quite place it. 'Touching,' she thought. Then she looked up to the sky. Was Archangel enjoying the story? Perhaps she should reread it and then ask him how he liked it. That would give her something to talk to him about. An excuse to get to know him.

Then she caught herself. 'He's royal court, you silly thing. Where are you thinking it could go? He is Ztar's companion as well,' she chided herself. Then, 'No harm in talking though. He's so far from home, maybe he needs a friend. Someone to talk to. Nothing wrong with that. Maybe I could ask him what it's like to fly,' she offered herself.

Still, she was merely low-ranking palace staff and Archangel was royalty – a gap that should not be crossed. Yet Archangel crossed the divide, starting out as Ztar's companion and nothing more to become imperial staff. Obviously, Ztar's view of imperial propriety differed from that of previous Emperors. Perhaps a member of royalty and a lowly member of palace staff could strike up a friendship without too much consternation. She felt her courage grow. And so the decision was made. She'd reread _Shards_ and next time she saw Archangel, she'd ask him about it.

Smiling, she set the book down and headed toward the palace to return to her duties.

### --- ###

Ztar's eyebrows furrowed as he read the document that had held Archangel in his absolute control for five years – the document he told Archangel several months ago he would no longer enforce and freed the human for all intents and purposes. While still legally in effect, he had made it clear to all concerned it was not to be acted upon. Naturally, Ztar had read the key components of the Accord before the final document was presented to Earth's Shi'ar representatives, but he had never taken the time to read the entire Accord. Why bother? He trusted his legal staff out of necessity. They were the law-writers, not the Emperor. Now he wished he had. If Ztar had been killed during the war or died for any other reason since its signing…

The Accord was brilliant in its simplicity. The Shi'ar and Earth were required turned over Archangel and relinquish all claims to the human and make no attempts to retrieve him. Once done, their part of the Accord was fulfilled. The human was stripped of all rights, named Ztar's personal property, and required to perform and submit in whatever manner the Emperor commanded and if he did not, Earth was the Empire's to do with as the Emperor saw fit. The reward for compliance was autonomy for Earth. The penalties for non-compliance were harsh. The Accord was exactly as Ztar had instructed his counselors to structure the document. He now cringed at its cruelty.

Archangel made a good point when they first questioned its contents shortly after Ztar had unofficially released Archangel from the Accord. Once Earth and Shi'ar presented Archangel to Ztar, their requirements were fulfilled, assuming no attempts were made to rescue the human. So why hadn't his top legal advisors seen the Accord in the same paradigm that Archangel and Ztar had – much less a treaty between Earth and the Turzent Empire and more of an agreement between Archangel and Ztar that could be dissolved by mutual their consent?

Yet now having read the entire document, Ztar could understand why the counselors wouldn't look at it in that light. The continued requirement that Earth and anyone connected with or working for the small planet were banned from any and all actions to retrieve or otherwise steal back Ztar's property did mean on-going obligations for Earth's people. In that way, Earth was still required to perform in a particular manner.

So, yes, the more Ztar considered, the clearer it became that all parties remained actively bound by the Accord. At least for the next few months until Earth came fully under the new Imperiocratic government and the Accord was officially voided.

With that issue resolved in his mind, Ztar turned back to the clause that bothered him – what would happen to Archangel in the event of Ztar's death, his incapacitation, or if he chose to relinquish his claim on the human. That passage clearly said Archangel would become property of the Imperial government, specifically the military arm, and even more precisely, Military Development. Ztar held mixed feelings for that division of his military. It was the same branch responsible for the augmentation program he had been forcibly assigned to all those years ago. While he had cleaned house once he came into power, he never quite trusted the research and development side of the military again and still watched that division closely.

Sadly, Military Development let him down a second time before the war with the Commonwealth when they allowed FTL advancement research data to fall into enemy hands. Thankfully, the scientists involved in the project still turned theory into reality ahead of Commonwealth researchers. It was a turning point in the war. Military Development was responsible for security for that project and they had failed Ztar and nearly jeopardized his Empire with that breach.

Now the question was why were they named receivers of Archangel? Just a single paragraph in a document of hundreds of paragraphs and it worried Ztar. What did they want with his companion? Who was responsible for the clause? Had Military Development wanted the mutant for genetic research? Yet Earth was full of mutants, so why Archangel in particular? The nannite technology housed in Archangel sprang immediately to mind. Did someone involved with the crafting of the Accord know about the nannites years ago? Possibly, but not likely. While General Gtar-Cro of Military Intelligence performed a background investigation of Archangel as soon as he learned of Ztar's intentions, whatever Gtar-Cro learned would have remained with the General, as was always the case of intelligence gathered on Ztar's companions. So where were the clues leading him?

If indeed the nannites were the reason for MD's interest, Ztar could draw only one conclusion – someone who shouldn't have known about them did and MD was the benefactor. How did that translate into the paragraph in the Accord? Everyone involved in the document writing was now suspect. Yet if MD wanted Archangel, by the terms of the Accord, they'd only receive him if Ztar died or otherwise no longer wanted the human. Therefore, they may have a very long wait.

Ztar caught himself with that thought. He was a different person back then. He went through bedmates at a rapid rate. Few were with him more than several months, many only for a few weeks, and some only days. His chest tightened. The odds of Ztar hanging onto Archangel for a long time would have been quite low in anyone's opinion at the time. Ztar's reaction to the possibilities was almost physical. Someone five years ago had their eyes set on his Archangel and maybe still did.

Archangel hadn't spoken of the Accord lately. Ztar decided to hold off mentioning anything to the human until he knew more. The immediate question was who could Ztar trust to assist him in getting to the bottom of the matter?

As he always did in matters such as these, Ztar would turn to General Gtar-Cro.

### --- ###

"Warren, why do you remain? You owe the man nothing. Don't you see he continues to use you?" Xavier was asking Warren again to return to Earth. It was like the man was obsessed with getting him away from Ztar. It was the second time just this month he'd pleaded with Warren to go home.

"Charles, I've explained numerous times. I will when Ztar is ready. He's not yet. The Empire needs him to be strong and stable right now. My leaving would be counterproductive." Warren put a hint of exasperation into his tone.

Charles Xavier was beyond frustrated. It had been building for months. With each week that passed, he feared more for Warren. He'd tried subtle persuasion. He had attempted reason. Charles had used emotional pleas and logical arguments. Nothing thus far had worked. His friend, his X-man, had so fallen under the Turzent Emperor's control that he refused to leave when nothing prevented it. That's what the Emperor had told Warren even though the Accord that enslaved Warren to Ztar was legally still in effect and would be until Earth transitioned under the new government. Ztar had brutally raped and subjugated Warren out of his twisted and obsessive lust for the winged mutant for years. Then a few months ago, Warren decided to stay and willing participate in Ztar's delusional fantasy of the two of them a happy couple. Five years his friend had suffered at the hands of the Turzent emperor. Enough was enough!

Warren's transition from passive resistance to willing victim ate at Charles constantly. How could it have happened? How did Warren come to now defend the sadistic emperor and allow himself to care for the alien's wellbeing, even considering Warren's altruistic motives? Was Ztar controlling him telepathically? A distinct possibility.

Yet Charles felt there was more to it than simple mind control. He was familiar enough with the signs of that condition and Warren didn't display most of those telltale behaviors. Charles suspected another possible cause – Warren's low self-esteem and battered self-worth. Had his friend so come to loath himself that now depraved love held appeal? In Warren's subconscious, did he feel he deserved nothing better? That somehow a life of subjugation was atonement for perceived sins?

"Detach yourself from the situation, my friend. The empire will continue with or without Ztar. The rest of his court will not allow it to fall. Ztar's emotional health is not your problem to solve. You've sacrificed enough for the sake of Earth. If Ztar is being truthful, Earth is no longer at risk. You are free. You need to come home!" he implored.

Charles would never understand, Warren realized. While he appreciated the Professor's perspective, Charles seemed to have little inclination to see Warren's viewpoint and why it was vital that Ztar remain in power and govern his empire. For Ztar to do so effectively, the Turzent needed to heal so he could rule with maturity, steadiness, and compassion.

"We are simply rehashing the same issues over again, Charles. I _will_ come home, I promise you….when Ztar is ready. Not before," he said with finality.

"And if he's never ready? If he is unable to let go? Then what? You will stay with him for the rest of your life?"

Warren shook his head. "It won't come to that."

"And how will you know when the time is right? Do you truly believe he will tell you knowing that will mean you leave him?" Charles couldn't fathom the possessive alien would ever confess he was ready for Warren to leave. It had been five years and still Ztar held tightly to Warren.

"I will know." Warren wanted to conclude the comm call, but couldn't bring himself to end their conversation on a sour note. He struggled to keep his rising irritation from showing.

"How?" Charles pressed his friend.

"Trust that I know what I'm doing, Charles. I'm a big boy – I can take care of myself."

Charles leaned back in helplessness. Nothing he said seemed to make a difference. Whatever the cause, Ztar had a firm grip on his friend and it caused Charles to hate the man even more, if that were possible.

"You deserve a better life than Ztar provides. You are worthy of freedom and happiness. You will not find that in the Turzent."

Charles was hitting too close to home with talk of deserving and worthiness. Warren knew all too well what he was deserving of. He was blessed with much, but deserved little. People sensed that and saw him for what they could get from him – a meal ticket or a beautiful body to possess. That so-called beauty went only skin deep. His very soul was tainted by Apocalypse and the darkness that mutant brought out in him. No one understood what he was really capable of, and no one would ever know if Warren had anything to say about it.

"I'm not looking for that in Ztar. I'm here for the future of the Empire, which happens to include our planet. This is as important for Earth's future as it is for the rest of the realm. That future is worth the sacrifice of a couple years," Warren pointed out with conviction.

Charles could see the agitation in his friend's face. The last thing he wanted was for Warren to decide that their conversations were too uncomfortable to continue. He would not risk Warren breaking off communications. "I will cease pushing you for today, my friend. However, I will not cease asking you to return. This is where you belong. Earth is home."

Warren sighed. Thank god Charles was giving up for now. "How is everyone else? Well, I hope," he said quickly changing the subject.

"All the usual trials and tribulations. The school is full to bursting. We're managing, though."

"And financially…you're okay?"

Charles nodded. The school held on by its fingernails, but so far it was solvent.

"If you need money, don't hesitate to ask for a contribution from Worthington Industries. They've been instructed to provide you whatever you need it."

"Your generosity warms this old man's heart, Warren."

Warren grinned. "Old man, my ass. I don't think you've aged a day in 15 years."

That brought a smile to the Professor's face. They spent the balance of their visit on less sensitive subjects than Warren's living arrangements much to his relief.

As the screen went blank, Warren replayed some of Charles' words in his mind. Did his friend know how much harder he was making Warren's situation? Of course he wanted to go home, but Ztar needed to be tended to for the sake of billions upon billions of lives that would be better off with a healthy, happy Emperor. The weight of that responsibility was very heavy at times. He'd hoped Charles would help ease that self-imposed burden, not add to it, yet that is what he did every time he pressured Warren to leave.

He closed his eyes against the conflict between them. Charles believed Ztar to be beyond redemption and Warren believed him worth saving. They had both dug in their heels. Ztar had become a rift between him and his dear friend. It hurt.

### --- ###

"I don't want to lose him, Sukja," he told his aide simply. "No matter whether I need him anymore or not, which I do, I want him. I want him until death takes us."

Sukja looked into the eyes of his Emperor. They reflected the emotions he saw in the face and that emanated from the man. Ztar was still so needful – still so dependent on the human for happiness. Sukja wasn't as convinced as Archangel that that would ever change.

"That is up to Archangel, my Emperor. His choice whether or not to someday go."

Ztar didn't like to be reminded he had no control over that. Ztar was always in control, it was part of being an Emperor. Yet he realized that didn't translate to personal relationships. By the gods, it didn't even fully translate into his new role in his transitioning government. Letting go was hitting him from all sides he realized with sudden clarity.

"I understand that, but I don't have to like it. What can I do to show him it's worth staying? Make him change his mind?"

Sukja slowly shook his head. "I have no answers for you. Archangel is setting aside much for you right now…his own nature, his life, his own needs. There may be no way to convince him to do so permanently. It is perhaps too much to ask of anyone."

Ztar appreciated the honesty. It was something he treasured in their friendship. The Ozjaerian had a way of speaking even painful truth in a quiet, less hurtful manner. Ztar stared down into the glass of sanui he held tightly in his hands. "I know. I love him deeply. I need him so very much!"

"Archangel understands. That's why he's here right now."

Ztar looked up at his aide. "Does he? Does he really understand? Do _you_ really understand?" Ztar groped for the words to explain what he didn't feel there were words for. "We're joined. He is part of me – on some deep level. It is as if we are of one soul – at least for me. We're linked, tied together…by the gods, Sukja, I haven't the right words!" He was frustrated at the lack of terms to define. "That's the best I can do to describe how it feels. That won't change – I don't care what Archangel believes. I will always need him – always be connected with him."

Sukja watched as Ztar struggled. This was a different kind of need than he had previously confided. What was it? Was Ztar right? Had everything the human and Turzent been through together formed some sort of spiritual bond? Did Archangel feel anything like what Ztar described?

"Have you shared this with him?"

Ztar set the sanui down on the side table. "No. I don't want to pressure him. I don't think he feels the connection like I do."

Sukja sighed silently. It did not surprise him that Ztar had said nothing. The Emperor seemed to vacillate of late where his and Archangel's relationship was concerned. Afraid to say or do something that my cause Archangel to leave, then he'd settle down into a more secure frame of mind for a few days, only to become overly concerned once again. It had been going on now for the past couple months.

"My Emperor, I'm actually at a loss as to what you want me to say. Perhaps that I believe you can say or do something to avoid the inevitable?"

"I want you to tell me how to make him stay. What must I do? Or say? _What_?!" Ztar looked to his wise aide in near desperation.

Sukja looked back into the eyes that wanted an answer to a question as old as time. "You want to know how to make Archangel love you?"

Ztar lowered his gaze. "That is what I'm asking isn't it? Foolish."

"No, my Emperor, not foolish. That is a question asked by most of us at some point in our lives, in one form or another." Sukja scooted forward in his chair and leaned toward Ztar. "We all want to know we are worthy of being loved. You are no different," he offered gently.

Sukja watched as the Emperor closed his eyes, the face reflecting internal pain. This was the bottom line, he felt; the heart of the matter – Ztar's doubt that he was worthy of love. So desperate for it, yet so convinced he did not deserve it. Sukja feared, though, that even if Archangel did come to love him, Ztar would find a way to reject it, telling himself he was not worthy. The man had come so far in the past year, but he hadn't yet completely healed.

"I want him to love me – to stay, but there's nothing I can do to make that happen," Ztar said in a defeated voice.

"That is not because you aren't worthy of his love."

Ztar's eyes shot open and he looked hard into Sukja's. "You wrong, Sukja. I don't deserve what he's giving me. You know that as well as I do."

"He obviously believes otherwise," Sukja pointed out as the Emperor slipped into self-condemning behavior.

"He's wrong!" Ztar stood up and began to pace. He wasn't worthy; not after everything he'd done to his beloved in the past. No one could forgive such atrocities!

Sukja knew there was no convincing Ztar with words that he was worthwhile and Sukja would not try. A different approach was needed. "Archangel has decided you are. Accept that decision and allow him in, Ztar."

That stopped Ztar in his tracks. "What do you mean?" Archangel went all the way to his soul. How much more can one get in?

"You say you love him, but you've been holding him at bay whether you realize it or not. You share your deepest feelings with me without qualm, yet when I ask if you've talked about them with the man you love, the answer is no."

Ztar blinked. "I told you, I don't want to pressure him. I don't want him to leave because I've pushed to hard."

"Yet you want him to love you so he won't leave, but you're holding back out of fear of chasing him away. Do you see the problem?"

Ztar started pacing again – it helped the contemplation. Had he taken the wrong approach with Archangel? He was so fearful of creating a sense of entrapment in his lover that Archangel would leave rather than deal with the Emperor's intense need. But was that wise? Was he actually pushing Archangel away? There was risk either way, yet his current approach may forever keep Archangel at bay, while Sukja's way could result in another miracle. "Not necessarily sound strategy is it?" he asked after a minute. "I'm sabotaging my own dream, aren't I?"

"Perhaps."

Ztar returned to the chair in Sukja's lounge area. "But you said moments ago that Archangel loving me may be too much to ask."

"So I did and it may be true. That is ultimately up to Archangel and his own heart. Yet we will never know if he could love you if you undermine your own efforts, will we?"

Ztar sighed deeply. "What if I do as you say and he still leaves in the end? He doesn't love me?"

"Then you can never say to yourself that you did not try. Love is a tricky thing, my Emperor. It happens or it doesn't. Archangel could decide he wants to love you, but even he cannot make himself do so."

"By the gods, Sukja. Matters of love are so complicated and shifting! I'd almost rather be at war – that would be much simpler," he complained, picking up the glass of sanui.

Sukja laughed lightly. "My Emperor, welcome to the realm of the heart where little is simple."

### --- ###

An obviously wary human sat across from Vozeipar'de in the palace infirmary. It was understandable. Most individuals would hesitate at becoming a research subject.

"I'm not sure I'm comfortable doing that," Archangel said as a frown moved across the flawless face. "Can't you run the scans or whatever here?"

Vozeipar'de leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. "Unfortunately, no. My equipment is specifically infirmary. Fjai has the equipment and technology for research, which is what is needed. They have all the data from here and it's inadequate. They really need you go to their facility."

Warren was very leery of the request. Vozeipar'de had complete faith in Fjai Medical Research Facility and the integrity of their scientists. "One of the very best research groups in the Empire," as he described it. Still, Warren was being asked to be a lab rat.

"I don't know…"

The physician tried again. "Think of the lives you could be saving. The Wynnar-Qxani virus is deadly 99.9% of the time once fully active. If Fjai could determine how it is you survived, it may lead to a major breakthrough, perhaps even a cure, but they need your help."

"There's more to it than the virus, Chenro. I'm concerned about the nannite technology and the potential that they're more interested in that than they're letting on."

"Director Esiar assures me that their interest is solely in any role the nannites may have played in your survival. If they are the key, then yes, they will be very much interested in learning how that was accomplished by the nannites. We also know that something else may be responsible for your miraculous recovery. The unexplained energy that emanated from you may have nothing to do with the nannites and perhaps that is what cured you. After all, the nannites hadn't even taken note of the virus all those weeks you were infected. Your own body, though, recognized the infection and had been trying to fight it off for quite some time. That alone is something we've not heard of before. In all other known cases, the body's immune system never detects the infection. We may find it was your natural healing ability that was responsible for eradicating the virus and not the nannites, despite suggestive evidence they had reactivated. Again, we won't know unless you assist us."

Warren shook his head. "I keep coming back to what forces may be at work behind the scenes. On the surface, the request seems straightforward, but I've learned that things often aren't as they appear. Is it possible someone is using the virus research as a cover for getting the nannite technology?"

Vozeipar'de sat back in his chair. While he understood Archangel's concerns, the potential good outweighed the risks in the physician's opinion. "Fjai's researchers and scientists are of the highest integrity. General Gtar-Cro found nothing to raise suspicions about Fjai's intent. There is not one incident of misconduct or deception that MI could find by any of the researchers working on the W-Q cure. If they had found anything questionable, I would not be asking you to do this."

Warren felt somewhat more at ease hearing that MI had given the all clear. "What about Ztar? Have you discussed this with him?"

Chenro nodded. "Of course. You are of his court and this needed to be cleared through him first."

"And his response…" Warren prompted.

"That it's entirely up to you."

Warren weighed the pros and cons. The nannite risk. His own near phobia of becoming a science experiment thanks mostly to what he'd been through with Apocalypse. The fact that Fjai was a space station and he hated confinement. Yet on the flipside, it would be a chance to possibly save lives. To learn more about the golden energy also held appeal as that was a new phenomenon. It would be a task to mark off on his to-do list – something he and Vozeipar'de hadn't been able to figure out.

"Let me sleep on it, Chenro," he said rising from the chair.

"Please consider this carefully, Archangel. As much as I'd like to you assist in Fjai's research, you are also my patient. I don't want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. Your safety and wellbeing are my first priority," the physician said with a gentle smile.

Warren headed for the door, but turned back to Vozeipar'de before exiting. "If I go, it will not be for long. They'd need to make the time count."

Chenro nodded. Knowing Archangel's intense dislike for confinement, it was an expected limitation and Fjai would have to respect that. At least the human hadn't said no. Vozeipar'de felt encouraged.

### --- ###

"I swear, Ztar, the longer I'm here, the more stubborn you're getting. Maybe my staying was a mistake." Low blow, Warren knew, but he was severely annoyed with the Emperor. Every month or so, Ztar had a quick checkup with his physician, and every time he refused to be micro-scanned for nannites. Vozeipar'de had asked, pleaded, and argued until he was blue in the face. In desperation, the doctor had turned to Warren. This was now what seemed like the umpteenth time Warren asked Ztar to get tested.

"That is untrue. I see no value in knowing something that I'd rather not, because if they are in me, nothing can be done to change it."

"And if the nannites aren't there, wouldn't that be a huge relief? They likely are not – they aren't designed to survive outside my body. Chances are you're in the clear."

"But what if they are? As Vozeipar'de explained, my energy may have powered them. If they used that, then perhaps they like the rest of me." Ztar brushed past the nagging human.

"Just get tested, for God's sake. Please. For the millionth time…"

"No." And Ztar walked into the bathroom and palmed the entry control.

"You're fucking impossible!" Warren threw at the closed door.

Normally, Warren would just let the matter go as Ztar's choice, but it was on his to do list and Warren always completed his to do list. Besides, they should know whether or not the Emperor was carrying around the highly advanced alien technology for various reasons. If the nannites had transferred, it could indicate the failsafe wasn't 100 percent and if Ztar ever had another bedmate in the future, they could be at risk, as could anyone in Warren's future. And what if someone with less than honorable intentions found out and decided they wanted that technology? Ztar could then be in grave peril. Not to mention how a nannite infection could affect Ztar. What impacts on his longevity and his health might there be? Any which way Warren looked at it, Ztar needed to be scanned.

If Ztar was infected, perhaps the Empire's best minds could succeed where the Shi'ar had failed and rid both Ztar and Warren of the infestation. This was not something Warren was going to give up on. The Turzent was not being reasonable.

Which lead to another matter – Vozeipar'de's request that Archangel go to Fjai to participate in the Wynnar-Qxani virus project. Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone – help with the virus research and learn more about the energy field he possibly generated. Yet his gut told him to be extremely leery of letting anyone learn more about the nannites. It was very powerful technology. Unless the Emperor was also infected, he had a hard time justifying the risk of submitting to any testing that exposed the nannites to scrutiny. But if he could be assured that the nannite technology remained safely within him, the possibility of helping find a cure for an incurable disease was compelling. The issue required more thought, he decided.

### --- ###

It was a small, neighborhood eatery a short stroll from Atichi's shop and one of her favorite places for a leisurely meal with friends. Fourth generation ownership had garnered a loyal clientele and the place was usually busy, but customers never felt rushed. Everyone accepted that this place was for lingering and waited patiently for their turn to do likewise. Atichi had commed the day before and their table waited. One of the benefits of having established a friendship with the owning family years earlier.

"I love this place," Sukja confessed, sitting back to relax and take in the warm atmosphere with a rich and intense sanui in hand. The eatery's decor hadn't changed much in decades and retained its old elegance charm that made you feel embraced.

"As do I," Atichi sighed back. "It feels like a good friend – comfortable, welcoming, and reassuring," she offered looking deeply into Sukja's eyes, hoping the double-edged meaning wasn't lost on her long-time friend.

Sukja thought he heard more in the words than the obvious, but not entirely certain. They had been friends for years, going back to before either of them moved to Sat'rey. How different their lives were from that time long ago.

"Speaking of good friends, I've been neglectful of you. Life pulls me in many directions of late with all that is and has happened. We've much catching up to do."

"It's good to stop once in a while and reconnect," she reminded, taking a sip from her glass.

"I agree. Now tell me all your news!" he encouraged enthusiastically.

And the two talked, drank good sanui, ate slowly, and reconnected as old friends do – the time between visits seeming to have never occurred as they picked up exactly where they had left off. They talked of the routine and the not so routine, of old acquaintances and new, palace happenings, of Ztar and Archangel and that whole delicate situation, and how time was passing and of growing older and where life might be taking them.

Sukja caught the occasional twinkle in Atichi's eyes as he shared his own news. A couple times she patted his hand and then let hers linger just a bit. He sensed something just beneath the surface, but what?

All too soon, he realized that lateness of the hour. "Time to go, I believe," he said glancing back at the cleaning staff going about their work. Atichi nodded and they rose to leave, the royal guards also moving out of their corner in unison with a look of some relief. They strolled leisurely back to her shop and home in mostly comfortable silence, their tongues tired.

Coming to the doorway of her shop, he turned to her. "Atichi, I thank you for a delightful evening. Being with you is good for my soul."

She smiled widely and placed her hand on his chest. "As it is with me, dear friend. We should not let so much time pass between us again."

Something radiated off Atichi – a longing? Desire? She stood almost waiting. Then with a glance to the guards, she turned and opened her shop door. "Love and fondness, Sukja," she bid him with a wistful smile.

"Love and fondness, Atichi," he returned their mutual greeting that spanned the years and she disappeared behind the closing door. Quickly, he and the guards made their way the short distance to the shuttle pad as that familiar deep ache took hold of his heart for what could never be.

### --- ###

Ztar had a long and exasperating day. Numerous issues kept popping up regarding the new constitution, the transition from imperial rule to an imperiocratic government, prickly diplomatic maneuverings by the Par-Sen System that claimed to want to join the Empire, and a myriad of troublesome goings on that only served to irritate. The many months between now and when Ztar could shed much of the day-to-day decision-making and aggravations couldn't come soon enough.

Once the chain of events was set in motion to transition to the new government, Ztar longed for it to be done. An Imperial standard year of constant change and turmoil seemed like an eternity now. At least the first many weeks of the transition had been quieter than anyone had dared hope. Ztar gave credit where credit was due – his inner circle and their people. The Emperor could find no significant fault with how any of those key areas were performing. The military, military intelligence, planetary relations, finance, and legal all went above and beyond to ensure as few surprises as possible occurred. Ztar felt himself blessed with a keenly intelligent, loyal, and totally committed royal court and staffs.

But that didn't mean there weren't problems – many problems. The complainers, the fault finders, the nitpickers, and never-happys seem to come out of the woodwork during times like these. Soothing perceived slights, reassuring good intentions, and offering empathy and understanding to various system representatives and diverse self-interest groups seemed to be a black hole of time and energy. At least Ztar himself rarely had to step in. That did not mean he wasn't involved behind the scenes. He was still Emperor and still retained ultimate rule over the empire he had forged. And when key staff could not resolve a particularly challenging or sensitive issue, it fell to Ztar.

Yet those were all nuisance problems. The really significant challenges were beginning to take form. Some systems that had never fully accepted acquisition into the Empire were threatening to cede from the realm. He was returning most freedoms to the systems, yet they wanted full independence. Not completely unexpected, but to Ztar the idea seemed ill-conceived. The universe was a hostile place. Membership in the Turzent Empire offered a level of protection that a stand-alone system could never muster. Perhaps those that felt living as part of his Empire was too difficult he should simply let go. Then when hostile forces come knocking on their door, he could politely decline to lend aid. Or better yet, let them find trading partners outside his empire. For some, it would be a vast distance through Turzent space to get to another unaligned world, assuming Ztar would even permit them to travel through his territory. These points and more the rebellious species seem to have momentarily forgotten in their fervor for freedom.

As Ztar navigated to his palace chambers, he began to forget how tired and annoyed he was when his thoughts turned to Archangel – his escape from all that was the Empire – who had saved Ztar from himself without ever intending to do so. He loved Archangel wholly, unequivocally, and to the depths of his soul. Now imaginings of time with Archangel warmed him from the inside out. He needed Archangel this night more than wanted.

The chamber door slid open at his bio-sig and Ztar stepped into the room. Glancing quickly around, he found Archangel in the sitting area, feet up, reading. Archangel looked at him and smiled. Ztar loved the human's smile; always radiant. Then again, Ztar was a little biased.

"Good evening, my Archangel," he greeted warmly. "Sorry to be so late. You did eat earlier as I suggested?"

Warren studied the Turzent Emperor. He looked weary despite the large smile. These past many weeks had taken a toll – too many long days and stress-filled hours. "I did, but I can eat again if you haven't yet," he offered. Warren could always eat and Ztar knew that very well. Reference to Warren's insatiable appetite always evoked a grin or chuckle from the Emperor, and that night was no exception.

"The Chef sent food to my office earlier. I think Sukja is keeping tabs on my eating habits and commed Delme. Sometimes Sukja is a little motherly," Ztar shared with a chuckle. "But if you're hungry, by all means eat."

Warren put his PI aside and got up. "No, not really." He walked over to the ajar balcony door where a cool breeze was wafting in. "It's getting cold," Warren noted as he closed the door.

"Winter winds," Ztar replied, watching the human move through the chambers. The gentle rustling of feathers alone ignited heat in the Ztar. 'Funny how such a little thing can do that to me,' he thought to himself. He'd waste no time this night. He wanted Archangel in his arms and forget about being Emperor for a while. "Fireplace activate," Ztar commanded into the air, and the voice-controlled hearth ignited.

Warren walked over to liquor storage and pulled out two glasses and the Dison, a sweet-fiery liqueur they both enjoyed. It would taste especially good with the coolness of the evening. He wanted to talk with Ztar about the Fjai request. If Ztar felt it was safe, Warren would seriously consider going. Ztar came up behind as he poured, and ran his hand down the wings sending the involuntary shivers through Warren. It was all too obvious what the Emperor wanted.

Though Warren still wrestled every day with his decision to stay with Ztar, over the months since that decision it had gotten easier. He wasn't sure why, but perhaps it was routine now, just part of what he did each day and night. While a relationship with another man would never be natural for Warren, Ztar did please him in bed. In fact, he did more than that – Warren had never experienced sex as intense or all-consuming as it was with Ztar. Yet there was something more to it than sex. It felt as if they were linked, but that didn't quite describe it either. More like they were bonded on a deep, nameless plane. When he contemplated it, Warren couldn't find the right words, and maybe there weren't any that could accurately convey the feeling. He stopped trying.

In looking back, Warren realized the connection had become more noticeable after his near-death. Whatever it was, Warren knew that on most days, at most times, it was Ztar who felt the bond most acutely. And with Ztar, that usually meant one thing. Right now, Ztar's hands were roaming his back, up and down the space between the wings and Warren was already getting aroused. He had finished pouring one glass of Dison when Ztar wrapped his arms around Warren and pulled him close. "We can have the Dison later," he whispered in Warren's ear, his voice already lusty. The Fjai discussion would have to wait, Warren concluded.

The feel of the wings, the firmness of the body, the very smell of Archangel – skin and feather – sparked Ztar's passion like no other lover ever had. The Turzent believed with zero doubt that no one else would ever make his desire burn with such white hot intensity. At times he thought spontaneous combustion was not outside the realm of possibility. He began nuzzling Archangel's neck, nipping at an ear lobe. Sliding his hand around Archangel's waist, up the back to the wing base, he plied his skilled fingers at the right spot in the right way on the highly sensitive wing. Again, he was rewarded with a wing quiver and a shiver that ran down Archangel's lean body.

Warren nearly dropped the Dison bottle when Ztar hit that point on his wing. 'O-oh god!' He moaned with pleasure. Warren attempted to move back and turn, but Ztar wouldn't budge, keeping Warren pinned between Ztar's seven-foot frame and the counter. Then Ztar's fingers probed deep between the feathers of his right wing, stimulating the super-sensitive nerve endings that made Warren such a magnificent flier. More tremors ran through Warren as he took in a sharp breath and he arched against the Ztar's body. Then the Emperor ran his hand down the length of the wing, letting feathers glide between his fingers as far as Ztar's arm could reach down. Warren's body was igniting and there was nothing to be done about it.

Ztar was pleased with the reaction to his foreplay, but then again it almost always worked. He had learned five years ago that the wings were two large erogenous zones for the human. During those years, he had perfected his arousal techniques and knew exactly what brought Archangel the most pleasure. Finger combing of the feathers was one of those things. Ztar repeated the combing, sending another wave of shivers through his companion.

Warren thought his knees would give out the second time Ztar slid his fingers through the feathers. He grabbed the counter edge with both hands and swallowed hard. The world was quickly becoming distant as the desire escalated. Warren wanted the skilled hands on his wings, his body, everywhere. He nearly vibrated with longing. The third time Ztar titillated the wing Warren was over the edge. This time when he tried to turn around, Ztar allowed it and Warren rose up to the Emperor's mouth and took it in for heated kiss. He pulled his wings forward and enveloped them in a white cocoon.

Encircling Archangel with his arms, Ztar lifted the human up bodily without breaking from the kiss, and walked to the bed. Lying Archangel down on the deeply soft mattress, Ztar pulled back from the human's mouth and rose up slightly. The clothes had to go now and Ztar wasn't in the mood to wait for more traditional methods. Fabric and stitch stood little chance against the augmented strength of the Turzent and soon what was left of Archangel's loungewear was on the floor in tatters. Then Ztar ripped away his own bothersome garbs and lowered himself down on his companion once again to take in the pleasures that only Archangel could give.

Ztar brushed his lips against Warren's teasingly, but instead of a taking in his mouth, the Turzent kissed down his neck, across his shoulder, and onto the wing arch. Tremors of delight raced through him as lips tantalized feathers. Warren ran his own hands up from the small of Ztar's back to the broad shoulders, lingering in the sensation of smooth skin over hard muscle. When Ztar pulled up slightly to explore with lips and tongue down the shoulder, and across the chest, Warren put a hand on either side of Ztar's head and pulled him in to explore the Turzent's mouth once again. Waves of heat washed through him and Warren groaned from his wanting.

Ztar gave his companion what he wanted; long and deep, tongues intertwined. Archangel's kisses were one of life's simple yet greatest gifts, the Emperor had long ago concluded. They were strong, yet gentle at the same time. Demanding, yet submissive. Ztar loved them. But as wonderful as the kisses were, Archangel offered other pleasures Ztar wanted to enjoy. Separating from Archangel's mouth, he continued to explore the rest of the human's perfect body, building the passion and lust in both men as he plied all his highly refined bedchamber skills. The human moaned and his breath hitched when Ztar hit just the right spots in the perfect way. Ztar's empathic connection with Archangel reinforced that all was progressing nicely.

Warren was quickly losing awareness beyond the bed. He was simply sensation and need as the Turzent titillated, massaged, kissed, brushed, stroked, and otherwise drove Warren mad with his hands, mouth, and fingers. Warren did his best to return the favor, yet always felt he that got the better end of the deal. Ztar had a distinct advantage of knowing exactly what gave Warren the most pleasure at any given moment through their close empathic tie. Unfortunately, empathic links run only one way when the second person is not an empath, and Warren wasn't. He had to rely on old fashion feedback to know what was pleasing Ztar. So he did his best to hit the right spots on the Turzent's body with his fingertips, lips, and tongue. It got the job done quite nicely from Ztar's reactions.

Ztar was on fire from Archangel's kisses and caresses. He took in more and more of the human, the need to bring things to climax becoming more pressing with each stroke of hand or brush of lips. Ztar so needed Archangel, not just physically, but his soul needed the human. Each time he contemplated the fact that Archangel had chosen to remain with him of his own free will, the Emperor still found it hard to believe. After all that had happened between them, all the pain and suffering Ztar had inflicted on Archangel for four years, after all Ztar had taken from him by force, the noble human still decided to stay for Ztar's sake. If any creature deserved to be called Esserru, it was Archangel. "Healer of souls" the word meant. That was succinctly and miraculously what Archangel had done for Ztar, and he would be grateful for all eternity for that gift.

At the moment, though, Ztar accepted the gift Archangel was giving him in bed. The Turzent focused his entire being on the human, determined to bring him all-consuming pleasure. In the giving, Ztar's own needs and desires were fulfilled, and when he could no longer hold back, Ztar took his Archangel, thrusting gently at first to give the human's body time to accept him without discomfort. Once the human was fully ready, he took Archangel deep and powerfully for as long as Ztar could, savoring every sensation of plunging in and out of his beloved.

When Ztar entered Warren, it was what his body wanted and waves of incredible sexual bliss crashed over him. Despite the haze of lust, he wondered how it was that a man could make him feel so good. About the only conclusion he could draw was if the sex is this good, it doesn't really matter. And when Ztar came inside him, it drove Warren to climax and the relief of release sent ecstasy rushing through him.

With the sex at an end, Ztar laid half on top of Warren, brushing the damp hair off Warren's face, smiling a silly grin of contentment. "You look like a Cheshire cat," he told Ztar with a quick laugh.

"And a Cheshire cat is…" the Emperor questioned.

"Take it from me," Warren said, inviting the telepath to enter his thoughts. The look of understanding quickly crossed the Emperor's face and his eyes twinkled.

"Yes indeed, I feel like the Cheshire cat, but I'm grinning because you make me content and whole. I love you."

As Ztar nuzzled his neck again, Warren couldn't remain quiet when he remembered how Ztar had discarded his clothes earlier. "Your tailor does wonder what I do with all the clothing he makes for me. I haven't the heart to tell him some ends up in shreds on the floor," he shared laughing.

"It gives him work. He should be grateful," Ztar chuckled into Archangel's ear, and then rose up on an elbow to look down into the crystalline-blue eyes that never failed to mesmerize. Those eyes glinted with mischief as he watched.

"Be warned, Emperor. You ever do that to my t-shirts and jeans and you're a dead man!" Warren said sternly.

Ztar laughed heartily. He knew how precious those items were to the human, having been sent by his friend Xavier.

"You have my word, your t-shirts and jeans are safe," he reassured. "But how someone can be so attached to old, worn pants, I can not imagine!" he remarked with a shake of the head. "Now, perhaps we could enjoy that Dison."

That reminded Warren of what he had wanted to talk to the Emperor about before Ztar had other ideas for the evening. After throwing on their nightwear, retrieving the Dison, and snuggling back into bed to watch the flames dance in the fireplace, Warren asked his question.

"What is your take on the Fjai request?"

Ztar didn't answer immediately, and Warren studied the Emperor's facial expression closely. Slight concern could be read there, or it could simply be Ztar didn't like the idea of being separated from him for any length of time, or both.

"Gtar-Cro found nothing in his investigation of the facility or its researchers. They are of highest integrity from what MI could ascertain. Obviously, I worry about you submitting to testing and how that will make you feel. It's something I wouldn't do unless there was a strong possibility of producing the results they're hoping for. The nannite aspect equally concerns me. Technology that advanced may be a temptation the scientists can't resist."

"My thoughts exactly. I won't let them have the nannites. It comes from bad karma."

Ztar sat quietly for several moments. "If you decide to go, I'm going with you. I can monitor the researchers telepathically to ensure nothing is done that we don't approve of."

At first, Warren was going to protest saying Ztar needed to stay at the palace with all that was transpiring with the transition, but then he knew Ztar could handle most things from anywhere in his Empire as long as he was within comlink range. It would be a huge relief to know he was scanning the researchers and watching over their actions. With that safeguard in place, Warren would go. The possibility of helping to find a cure for the deadly virus appealed to his altruistic side. The added bonus of perhaps learning more about his own mutation also appealed. The more he knew, the better equipped he would be to take advantage of the abilities nature gave him.

"I've decided to go if you go with me, but only if their staff, meaning everyone at the facility, agrees to allow you to scan whomever, whenever you want. We will trust, but verify. And if the nannites prove to have played no role in my survival, I want every bit of data on them destroyed."

Ztar nodded in complete agreement. "Then that's what we will do. Shall I tell Chenro or do you want to do that?"

"I'll tell him. Hopefully, I won't lose my nerve when the time actually comes. After Apocalypse, I'm not sure how I'll react to being in that kind of setting again," he said as a very slight shudder ran through him.

Ztar sensed the apprehension. "Archangel, don't do this if it will be too painful."

Warren sighed and shook his head. "It's a fear I need to confront, Ztar. Maybe then I can finally put that ordeal behind me."

Memories of Ztar's time at the hands of the Etagllot flooded back and he stiffened. The pain and fear was something he'd never forget. Nor would he forget the screams of the people he killed on his way to breaking out of the military facility. His new, wild abilities decimated the population of the research compound, both innocent of any crimes against him and otherwise. The innocent deaths he caused that day would always haunt him.

Warren noticed Ztar's sudden stillness. He knew that Ztar had suffered similarly with the military's experiments to genetically augment their soldiers. "Ztar, if this will be difficult for you, too, we should rethink. No sense dredging up bad memories on your part either."

It was Ztar's turn to shake his head. "You're wisdom is sound, Archangel. I should face my demons."

"If you're sure."

"I'm not until, like you, I'm facing it. Though I'll be observing only. The experience won't be as intense for me as for you."

Warren nodded. 'Very true,' he acknowledged to himself. Taking another sip of Dison, he watched the flickering flames. Sleepiness crept from the soothing warmth of the liqueur and fire. He yawned. Ztar pulled him tight with the arm that encircled Warren from behind as they lay propped on the pillows against the headboard. His head resting on Ztar's broad shoulder, Warren suddenly realized he was feeling wonderfully content and wondered about the implications. Sleep tugged though and he let any desire to contemplate go.

"We should get some rest," Ztar offered. He, too, was drowsy. Then they settled in for the night, Ztar holding Archangel in a protective wrap. 'If any one of those scientists even think of causing the slightest pain in my Archangel, they will pay dearly,' was his last thought as sleep came.

### --- ###

Merryth was fully engrossed in her reread of _Shards_ when Archangel rounded the corner shrub and stopped short.

"Hello!" he greeted, the voice filled with surprise.

Merryth jerked with a start and looked up. Her plan worked – he was here! "Greetings, Archangel," she replied, immediately spotting his borrowed copy of _Shards_ in hand. Archangel seemed a bit nonplussed at her presence in what she slyly learned from Moit'de was his favorite reading spot. "Have I intruded where you wanted to read?" she asked up to him innocently with a small twinge of guilt for her mild deception. She had intentionally sat on the ground as Archangel often did, something the master gardener had also shared, hoping he'd feel more inclined to sit if he did come along.

'Yes,' Warren thought, but then there was no sign posted that said "Private Retreat for Warren."

"I can find another place if you'd rather be alone," he offered, not sure if he wanted her to say yes or no. Normally, he wouldn't have minded, but today had he looked forward to the alone time more than usual.

"Oh, no. I'm quite happy sharing this spot. I like it here. You can't see any buildings or any other part of the grounds. It's like an oasis. You enjoy it, too?"

Her emerald green eyes looked hopeful to him. Did she really want him to stay or was she being polite? "I do. It's my favorite place in the gardens."

"Then let's share," she said patting the ground in a motion that reminded Warren of Moit'de, though the gardener and Merryth were not the same species. Merryth was Dreian Minor, not to be confused with Dreian Major, as the computer database had pointed out in Warren's brief reading about the species. Her people originated in the twin-planet star system called Themra, if he recalled correctly, that was one of the many worlds conquered during the heydays of the old Ta'oc Empire.

He took the young woman up on her offer and sat down. They had spoken once before briefly several months earlier. After that, it was just the usual hello or exchange of smiles as they passed in the palace hall. Merryth always looked happy he recalled.

Of all the species Warren had encountered during his time with Ztar, she came the closest to looking homo sapien. There were enough differences, however, that one would either realize Merryth was not human or would think she was a mutant. She was small-framed, with legs longer than one would expect for her torso, but not so long as to look anything but graceful. In fact, as he considered it, she almost looked elf-like – a lithe body with long legs, delicate hands, and small feet. She had the same two arms, two legs, and the common 6-digit variation of hands. The somewhat larger-than-human ears were slightly pointed at the tops. Her skin tone he described as a warm brown and unlike anything you would find on a homo sapien. Warren detected hints of rust in the rich hue. What stood out the most was the amazing deep rust-red hair that hung past her narrow shoulders and the large emerald-green eyes surrounded by long, thick lashes of the same rusty-red color. Merryth was quite beautiful in Warren's opinion.

As Archangel joined her on the ground, she watched him spread the wings across the grass and settle in, legs crossed. Although not her species, her breath caught whenever she saw him. He was the most handsome non-Dreian she'd ever seen.

"What are you reading," Warren asked, nodding to her PI.

She smiled what she hoped was an apologetic grin. "Actually, I have a confession to make. I saw the book you left on the bench while up there a few days ago," she pointed to the sky. "I read _Shards_ once before and loved it. When I saw you were reading it, I decided to revisit the story. I'm rediscovering why I enjoyed it so much all those years ago."

As he listened to Merryth speak, her accent seemed a cross between Australian and Caribbean. Very pleasing. "It _is_ good. The author has created a universe that draws you in. The characters are believable and the main character, Jxiar, has issues he grapples with that transcend species. I love the humor, too. Some of the references elude me, but usually I get the general idea," Warren shared.

Merryth gave him a hand signal/facial expression combo that seemed to signal agreement. "Any particular references you missed?"

Warren thought for a moment. "Well, there was the one about acting like a jaddyrrok. Was that made up or is there such a thing?"

Merryth laughed. "Oh, there really are jaddyrroks alright. They're found on the author's home planet. Jaddyrroks are small animals with a big reputation for expending lots of energy and accomplishing little. They seem to need to be in motion whether it serves a purpose or not."

Warren chuckled in understanding. "Now it makes sense! And that fits with other descriptions the author wrote about Tenwu."

"And the more you get into the book and the books that follow _Shards_, the more you'll see Tenwu scurries about like a jaddyrrok a lot!" she said giggling.

"How long ago did you first read the book?"

"Many standard years ago. Perhaps 20 or 25."

Warren did a quick mathematic conversion in his head. That'd be at minimum 23 Earth years ago, but that didn't fit. Merryth looked to be not even 20 years old.

Warren cocked his head. "Merryth, in my cultural my next question can sometimes be considered rude, so if it is, please don't feel offended or obligated answer. How old _are_ you in standard years?"

Merryth smiled sweetly. "The question is not rude at all. I'm 94 standard years."

Warren was flabbergasted. "94 years old?!"

She gave the same hand/face gesture again. "My species is long-lived. Our average life expectancy is 375 standard years," she said tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear that the breeze had grabbed.

Warren was amazed. "That's a long time."

"Depends on your perspective. Our culture is like all others – the lifespan is normal to us. For example, my people usually can't bear children until our late sixties at the youngest. Life moves slower for us than for most other people."

"You must wonder how we cram it all into our shorter lifespan."

"Exactly. I can't imagine living only a hundred and fifty standard years – so little time and so much I'd want to do!" she exclaimed with a wave of her arm for emphasis.

"Again, it's perspective. On my world, the longest most people could typically expect to live is about 85 years – that's 70 standard years. In many countries on my planet, it is far less."

Merryth inhaled at the shortness of the lifespan. It was less than most of the species of the Empire. "Is your lifespan the 70 years or the other," she asked hoping it would be the longer.

Warren wasn't sure how to answer. Obviously, he had considered this himself, but there was no way to know. The only indication he had thus far was that since his healing ability kicked in, he hadn't appeared to age. And then there were the nannites – they may also come into play at some point, not willing to let their host die. "Merryth, I'm not really sure how long my lifespan could be. I've certain anomalies in my genetic makeup that leaves the door wide open. I could live a very long time or just the typical 70-year life."

Merryth considered pressing Archangel for more information about the anomaly, but decided against it. If he wanted to share, he would, she felt. "I hope it's the former."

"I'm not so sure I do," he said with a sudden pang of sadness.

"Why do you say that?" she wanted to know, setting her PI on the ground.

Warren mimicked the move and placed his book on the bench. "I've thought about it some. It would be like being caught in a time warp. Everyone around you growing older and eventually passing away and you don't, or maybe just at a much slower rate. You'd be always the one burying people you care about, always left behind to pick up the pieces and start of new life without them. You'd miss out on growing old together with the ones you love and sharing in that major life experience. And if you lived a very long time, you'd be burying your grandchildren and great-grandchildren. No, I don't think I want to live a lot longer than other humans. It would be too painful."

Merryth was quiet for many moments as she considered what he had said. It made sense. "I see what you mean, Archangel. A life lived far longer than the rest of your people would be difficult. The pain of watching everyone you love die would be hard to endure. It would be a painful way to live." Yet it was to be that way with her and any shorter-lived friends she made in her life. She had always known that, but their conversation drove the point home with new sharpness.

Warren didn't feel like reading anymore as he found himself enjoying getting to know Merryth. And, too, while the winter day was not cold, there was a nip in the air. "It's a little chilly sitting here. Maybe we could walk the grounds and talk more about _Shards_ – and other things."

And so they walked, book and PI in hand, and discussed _Shards_ and their own cultures and their own adventures in space. The rest of Merryth's afternoon off went quickly and suddenly it was that time of day when it's not quite evening but no longer afternoon. Warren needed to return to the palace to make arrangements for dinner with Ztar.

"I thoroughly enjoyed the afternoon, Merryth. Thanks for spending your time off with me," he said smiling warmly.

"As did I. Now we best get you back inside. I don't want to be blamed for your dinner being late!" she said with a light laugh.

Warren liked the sound of her laughter – it was almost melodious. They parted company on the reflecting pool patio. She gave him a quick wave as she headed toward the staff residence building located elsewhere on the property.

###

From his office vantage point, Ztar watched as Archangel and the female staff member parted company. He'd picked up on odd empathic signals for the past couple hours from Archangel, but as always did not intrude telepathically. Now he could explain them.

The old Ztar may have reacted with suspicion or anger, but Ztar was pleased with himself for the lack of either. It was good that Archangel was making friends. Perhaps he would decide to stay if he became more anchored in this life, or at least postpone leaving. The fact that this was a woman gave Ztar slight pause, knowing Archangel's natural tendency toward male/female relationships, but Ztar had felt nothing resembling sexual interest in the empathic link.

As he left the balcony, something jolted him deep inside. It had nothing to do with Archangel he was somehow certain, but he couldn't put a finger on it. 'Odd.' Was this another premonition? He'd experienced that before Sukja and Archangel's kidnapping by the terrorists. This hadn't the same feel, though.

Still bothered by the sensation, he returned to the reports that he wanted to finish before he ended his work day. If the sensation happened again, he'd start making comm calls he told himself.

###

Making his way back to their chambers, Warren replayed parts of the afternoon with Merryth. He had enjoyed their time very much. She was intelligent, witty, and confident. The fact that she was quite lovely only added to her appeal. Warren was intrigued to say the least, but Ztar hung over him. If he was a free man…

What the afternoon drove home is that Warren did miss the companionship of a woman. Ztar was incredible in bed, but he was still male. Not once in their bedchamber escapades was Ztar ever anything other than 'the man.' Just once, he'd like sex where he was the man. But not with Ztar. With a woman. One of these days.

###

A short while later, he and Archangel were just sitting down to dinner when the door chimed and Sukja entered when prompted. The sensations radiating from Sukja were ominous and his face reflected high anxiety.

"My Emperor, you are needed in your office immediately," the Ozjaerian said with urgency. "General Gtar-Cro is on the comm and wants to speak with you privately."

Ztar rose immediately. Memory of the mental jolt jumped to mind. 'By the gods, what could be wrong?' Ztar's heart pounded as he nearly ran to his office.

### --- ###

Officer Dityce had planned with meticulous care. When you intend to kidnap the ruler of an Empire, perfection isn't optional. Anything less could mean your death. Only his best field operatives would be on the mission, and only at the last possible moment would they know who their target was. Secrecy was tantamount. If they failed, it could tip off Ztar's government of their returned presence in the Turzent Empire. Dityce had been warned of the dire consequences of that scenario.

'No pressure!' Dityce said sarcastically to himself. It seemed like too much risk for unknown rewards, but he was not yet privy to what the Etagllot hoped to gain from the human and the Emperor. That was on a need-to-know basis only and he didn't. He just had to delivery the targets.

It was quite fortuitous that the Emperor and his companion had decided to travel to Gamas II and the Fjai facility orbiting that planet. Snatching the two targets from Sat'rey would have been impossible. That star system and the throneworld it contained were fortresses. Intelligence reports had given him the Emperor's GII itinerary. Every piece of information was cross-verified to ensure accuracy. Of course, Dityce could not confirm anything with complete certainty, but it was what he had to work with. After studying the reports for a couple hours, Dityce found what he believed was a small crack in MI's security shield. That would be where he'd slip through.

### --- ###

_That's our first chapter – what did you think? Worth reading on? This is where you write your review and I get the thrill of reader feedback (blatant begging, I know!). Thoughts, impressions, anything I messed up - all comments welcomed._

_I've actually completed the near final draft of the rest of the book, so the wait for future chapters shouldn't be too long. Just need to do the spit 'n polish on each segment before publishing. Hopefully, you'll provide the feedback I need to stay motivated. Don't leave me hanging out there thinking no one is reading! _

_Until Chapter 2..._


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you, Focus SJS and Winchester-grl44, for the reviews – you kept me energized to put the finishing touches on the next chapter. Would love to hear from anyone else so inclined, even if it's just a couple words of encouragement or critique. _

_A lot happens in Chapter 2, so let's get right to it!_

**Chapter 2**

Ztar's hand shook as he pressed the control to end the comlink with Gtar-Cro. Myrundra dead? Perhaps dozens of others as well? Details were sketchy, but it was without question a bomb. Ztar's Head of Planetary Relations was providing an update on the government transition in a high-profile interview. Then on comlink it happened for a large sector of his Empire to witness live in all its horror. Rescue crews were digging through the debris of the partially collapsed building to reach survivors. However, as Jharda and the interview team were apparently near the heart of the explosion, little hope was held out of finding them alive.

Jharda Myrundra dead? His mind would not accept it. So sudden; without warning. So violently. Who? Why? Why her? And the jolt he experienced – had he felt her death across all that distance? 'By the gods!'

Ztar couldn't bring himself to watch the transmission of the explosion. Not yet, though the recording waited for him in his PI. No terrorist group had claimed responsibility, but that would likely come soon. They would wait until the whole of the Empire knew what happened and then reveal their message. That is often how these things played out. Let everyone guess and wonder and talk about it endlessly and then step forward to claim the spotlight a second time.

Gtar-Cro already had their list of suspects and the vast resources of Ztar's Empire stood at the General's ready. All royal court and other high-profile figures were being secured. The palace would be under heavy guard shortly. Ztar hadn't thought the extra security necessary at the palace – those responsible had already made their move and the palace was already well, albeit unobtrusively, guarded, but the General insisted.

Jharda dead? Ztar shook his head and then buried it in his hands. This had to be a mistake. They had just commed yesterday, going over the details of the upcoming interview. Normally, Jharda wouldn't bother the Emperor with something so routine, but these where unique times and every word coming from the royal court during the transition carried heavier than usual weight.

And now Ztar's personal choice as the face and voice of his royal court was likely gone in a microsecond. How could this be? Jharda Myrundra was energy embodied. Always so alive and vibrant, the pureblood Turzent performed her duties with seemingly endless stamina.

That made him smile in spite of the shock. Jharda had endurance in more than just her work. Ztar and she met when they were both young officers. She was a rising star in military communications and he in strategic command. Jharda was brilliant and quick on her feet. Even at her relatively young age, she performed the verbal dance of diplomacy and media sparring with an ease that seasoned professionals envied.

The attraction was immediate and powerful. Ztar took her to his bed that first night. She was beautiful and wild; passionate and joyful, and he had fallen in love by the end of the evening, but she'd hear none of it. They had careers to focus on and hers was her top priority. Yet she kept coming back to his bed until she rose up another rung on the military ladder and was gone. Shortly thereafter, he too was reassigned and they lost track of each other.

Then later, Ztar was forcibly assigned to the augmentation program and the rest became history. After Ztar had exacted his revenge and then began expanding the empire, he needed someone on his royal court of advisors to handle planetary relations and immediately thought of Jharda. Much to his delight, she agreed. Though Ztar's tactics didn't always fit with Jharda's sense of right and wrong, she supported his ultimate goal – to bring together the varied warring, fragmented worlds in their slice of the galaxy under one rule. Unite those systems by choice or by force into something to counter-balance the growing Systems Commonwealth. Ztar was determined that government would not absorb their quadrant of space. He would do whatever it took to protect his small Empire and its people from that regime even if it meant commandeering unwilling star systems for the cause.

That was nearly 15 standard years ago. Through it all, Jharda remained a steady, calming voice and devoted member of his court. And while they never again shared a bed, the old feelings never quite died and Ztar admittedly still thought of Jharda with warmth that went ever so slightly beyond professional friendship. But now she was perhaps gone forever.

"Jharda," he called aloud softly, tears filling his eyes. "Please, by some miracle of the gods, be alive."

###

Warren knew immediately something very serious had happened. The palace air was charged. When Ztar left their chambers for his office, Warren went to his private chambers to see what he could learn on the comnet. He never got that far. Warren walked to his balcony at the sound of approaching shuttles. Upon landing, the doors opened and soldiers spilled out, quickly disbursing. 'Shit, what happened?! Did someone threaten the Emperor? A breach of security? One way to find out,' he decided and quickly left to find Ztar.

As he headed toward Ztar's office, two military officers came up the hall at a near run obviously heading for the same destination as Warren. He got there first.

Ztar was seated at his desk with a haunted look and slumped shoulders. Warren's heart went to his throat. Whatever it was, it was very bad. "Ztar? What has happened?" was all Warren got out before the officers burst in behind him.

"My Emperor," the highest ranking male started immediately. Ztar nodded a dazed acknowledgement. "I am Commander Ffireh. Under direct orders from General Gtar-Cro, emergency security protocols are now in place. No members of the palace will be allowed to leave until further notice. No unauthorized personnel will be permitted within the Imperial Valley. Palace staff and members of court are to remain inside until the grounds have been fully secured. We are coordinating all activities with your Head of Palace Security and he will be kept fully apprised. Do you have any questions or concerns, Emperor?"

Warren didn't know about Ztar, but he had lots of questions.

"No. You may go," the Emperor dismissed the men.

Warren walked over to the desk and sat down. "Ztar, what the hell has happened?"

The Turzent gathered himself. By the look on Ztar's face, he was having a hard time controlling his emotions.

"There has been a bombing. A member of our court is likely dead." Ztar's voice was hollow and strained.

"Who?" Warren knew how much each of his royal court members meant to him. They were his right hands and most of them were as close to being friends as their positions of power would permit. Then he saw the moisture come to the eyes and the hard swallow Ztar took before answering.

"My-yrundra," the voice cracked ever so slightly. "Jharda may be dead."

Warren's mind jumped quickly back to a scene he witnessed months earlier as Ztar greeted Myrundra at the palace shuttle pad. The look they exchanged had led Warren to wonder then if she and Ztar had history. Now he felt even more strongly he was correct.

"God, Ztar. I'm so sorry!" Warren said reaching out to lay his hand across Ztar's clenched fist.

Sukja appeared at the doorway looking pale and shocked. "My Emperor, is there anything more I can do for you right now?"

Ztar looked up at his aide. "Pray to your god for a miracle, Sukja. That somehow Jharda lives."

"I will, my Emperor," Sukja said in near whisper.

The Ozjaerian locked eyes with Warren and he read the question there. Warren nodded slightly – he would indeed take care of the Emperor if Ztar would allow it.

"I will be in my office should you need anything," Sukja reassured and then left. Warren could only imagine the flurry of comms and other activity Sukja would likely hold at bay for the next few hours as Ztar dealt with the crisis and his own shock.

"Ztar, is there anything I can do to help?" Warren asked gently.

The Emperor only shook his head. "No." Then the Emperor pulled himself up straight and looked into Warren's eyes. "There is imperial business I must attend to now. We need to determine our next move and what we're going to tell the people about this attack. If instincts are right, this has to do with the transition. I cannot and will not let it stop us from moving forward. Terrorists will not win this battle."

"Anyone claim responsibility?" Warren wondered.

"Not as yet."

Just then Ztar's PI chimed the tone that a comlink from Myrundra's office was coming through. "I need to take this."

Warren rose. "If you need me…"

As he headed down the hall back toward his their chambers, Warren's heart was heavy. 'Sure hope this isn't a sign of things to come,' he worried. 'If it is, the Empire may be in for a rocky ride.'

###

It was very late when Ztar finally joined Warren in their chambers. The man appeared exhausted and devoid of life.

"You look like you need a drink," Warren offered immediately, getting up from the computer and heading to the liquor cabinet. He grabbed the strongest drink they kept in their chambers. As he poured, Ztar unbelted his tunic and let the belt drop on the floor. The formal day-time tunic came off next to fall atop the belt. Ztar stood in his undervest and trousers looking much smaller than this seven-foot frame.

Warren handed the glass of Raimami to Ztar. The Emperor immediately took a long draw of the potent drink.

"Any news from Mon Genesis?" Warren had learned much from the comnet news outlets of the attack and the search for survivors. Speculations as to who might be responsible ran the gamut from anti-transition terror groups to the Systems Commonwealth wanting to reignite war.

"Nothing yet about Jharda. The rescue teams are still searching. They found many bodies and one survivor. Scans show others trapped, both dead and alive. The work is slow and meticulous."

The images from Mon Genesis were horrifying. How anyone could still be alive in the rubble Warren couldn't imagine. "Then there's still hope."

"Yes." Ztar moved to the bed and sat down heavily, taking another gulp from the glass. "I will see them all dead for this, Archangel. This I vow for Jharda. They will pay!"

Warren heard both rage and pain in the voice. "Gtar-Cro will find them, Ztar. He won't rest until he does," Warren reassured as he joined Ztar on the edge of the bed.

Ztar gazed at his companion, the man he loved more than life itself, whom he had also come close to losing twice since retrieving him from Earth. Once in a barely aborted death plunge from the sky and then to the Wynnar-Qxani virus, not to mention the terrorist kidnapping. 'How precious and tenuous life is,' Ztar realized with acute appreciation.

Ztar raised his hand and brushed his companion's cheek up to the temple, then drew his fingers through the waves of hair. "My Archangel, I need you tonight…all of you, everything. Please."

Warren looked into the face etched with the deep pain of probable loss. "I'm here, Ztar," he said taking the Emperor's almost trembling hand into his.

"I loved her once," the Emperor admitted, and was then silent for many moments. "How can she be gone?"

"We don't know that for certain. They haven't found everyone yet." Even as he said it, Warren knew it was likely false hope.

"Be with me, Archangel. Completely tonight," Ztar pulled Archangel close, taking his mouth into an almost tentative kiss. He wanted Archangel wholly. Physically, emotionally, mentally – everything. He needed it. Needed to feel life and love and reassurance.

With clothes discarded to the floor, Ztar eased down atop his companion, pressing the man into the depths of the bed. He caressed and stroked the wonderfully alive body beneath him, moving the kissing from Archangel's mouth, to his cheek, ear, throat, chest, and back up again. One hand dug into white feathers and the other into golden hair as he began to devour his partner while tears found their way down his face.

As Ztar's kiss deepened, he moved his mind into Archangel's and blended their consciousness as they had done occasionally. The blending was not telepathic where specific thoughts were shared. It was awareness and feeling, something less complex than thought, fully empathic. Through the melding, each felt that what the other experienced. The knowing created an intense intimacy that only telepaths could achieve.

The Emperor's emotions washed through him. Grief. Anger. Shock. Denial. Need. He shuddered in their now shared pain. Warren wished for some way he could change what had happened. Nothing would change reality, but Warren could ease Ztar's pain by providing a temporary escape.

Through their shared awareness, Warren knew exactly where to stroke, what to touch, when to assert himself and when to submit. This was the advantage Ztar had over him every time they were together and Warren knew it was what made Ztar the perfect bedmate. The Turzent always knew precisely what to do and when. Now Warren took full advantage of his knowing to give Ztar what he needed so desperately.

'By the gods!' he cried out in his thoughts and moaned in bliss as Archangel hit the right spots in the right way up and down his body. The hands, his lips, fingertips and nails, the tongue – each a tool of incredible pleasure as the human titillated and explored him. His Archangel. His wonderful, beautiful, sensual companion. Ztar believed with all his heart that the day Archangel decided to remain with him and to give himself wholly to Ztar was a true miracle. How had he come to deserve such a gift? The gods had indeed answered his prayers.

And now there was only the two of them in all the vast universe. The palace could have collapsed around them and they would be oblivious. Ztar focused his entire being on the man beneath him whom he loved more deeply than he had ever believed possible. Deeper he pushed into Archangel's mind. He wanted them to be one thought, one existence. Archangel groaned softly as the mental melding intensified.

Warren was smothered with sensation. It was hard to catch his breath as Ztar's intense need blended with his own. Ztar's want became Warren's and the two were one and the same. Then Ztar's presence sank deeper and Warren inhaled sharply. The feeling was not painful, but it was… uncomfortable? No, not really. More like a non-physical pressure somewhere within him that he couldn't name. It didn't matter. The Warren/Ztar melding needed this and so it must be done.

Ztar thought the heat of their combine desire would catch the chambers on fire. It was overwhelming and his body and mind whirled as he took in more of his companion. And he wanted still more. There was one time that Archangel had opened so completely to him, he literally felt as if he'd touched the human's soul. It was a wondrous place and that's what he wanted now.

'More, my Archangel,' he whispered mentally. 'I want to be within you,' was the only way he could describe his want. Then Ztar spread his hands over the wings and probed through the feathers, combing his fingers down the length of the silken shafts. Archangel arched up against Ztar and took in his mouth hungrily.

Somewhere in his consciousness, Warren understood the request and he tried to accommodate, but then Ztar's fingers slid through his feathers and he shuddered, nearly becoming orgasmic there and then. In his hyper-sensitive state of their blended experience, the ecstasy was almost more than he could bear. And then Ztar did it again. Warren moaned deeply from the wondrous sensation that bordered on painful from its intensity.

Warren wasn't sure anymore what Ztar was doing mentally. He was losing all self-identity. The melded Warren/Ztar had a need and it must be filled. That was all that mattered. Without fully understanding how, Warren/Ztar reached down to open all the gates. The one to the rapturous energy, the one to the tranquil place, and the one the nameless place where Ztar had tread only once before.

Ztar probed deeper and sunk farther into Archangel's psyche to find the place he desired when the gates parted. His beloved was inviting him in and he gladly accepted the invitation. A tremor ran through the human as he stepped within.

Ztar would never find words to describe what drown him. It was pure and living. His mind and body shook as the tidal wave moved through him. It flooded all his physical and mental senses, even ones he didn't know he had. He believed he no longer had a physical body. He ceased being Ztar and became Ztar/Archangel. They were two beings yet one entity.

All physical motion ceased for many moments as they merged incorporeally. Something flowed from Warren/Ztar to Ztar/Archangel like an invisible, living ribbon of energy, anchored at one end to Warren/Ztar. The silky energy tangled and wove itself around and through Ztar/Archangel and they blinked. Was there a glow surrounding them?

The flowing ribbon withdrew to Warren/Ztar and as it did, the soft radiance dissipated. The energy felt different upon its return. Transformed in some small way, but not in a wrong way – just shifted slightly, they noted without concern.

Then physical awareness began to rise up once again as the doorways began to ease close. Ztar/Archangel didn't want it to end, yet he knew it must and he pulled back ahead of the shutting gates. Their combined consciousness dissolved and they became two separate beings. Once again focusing on the physical, Ztar continued layering sensation atop sensation upon his lover.

Warren was beyond thought, beyond having any connection to the world around them. He simply was sensation and desire. He wanted to be taken. Now. Immediately. Without restraint. He needed that release. 'Ztar, please!' he thought/felt to the man above him.

Ztar happily answered Archangel mental cry and took him deeply, strongly, for as long as he could make the experience last.

Without thinking, Warren reached down for that passionate energy they had shared numerous times. It was harder to raise it up this time, he felt oddly depleted. He groaned from the effort, but he managed for Ztar's sake and inundated the Turzent.

It was all too much and Ztar released into Archangel in climax, unable to restrain himself any longer. His body vibrated in an ecstasy that was nearly tangible. Then the rapture began to fade and it was over. As Ztar shifted to Archangel's side to lie beside the human, he realized he felt wonderful. It was so much more than the afterglow of sex, but he couldn't describe it, only feel it. Ztar withdrew the rest of his mind from Archangel's and watched his companion recover. The human seemed completely spent, more so than typical after releasing the nameless energy.

Warren let out a deep, shaky exhale as the last of Ztar's presence left him. The sensation was akin to a gentle ripping, but it wasn't physical – almost a Velcro kind of pulling apart. No pain, just very odd. Then he suddenly realized how weak he felt both in body and in spirit, as if he was devoid of all energy.

Ztar looked down at his companion. The man had just given everything to Ztar and then some, and he looked drawn and pale and was drenched in sweat. Had he given too much? Had Ztar asked for too much?

"My Archangel, are you alright?" he questioned with concern, sensing the exhaustion through their link.

Warren closed his eyes in fatigue and nodded. He'd be okay; somehow he knew that. "Just need some shut-eye," he whispered back.

Ztar stroked Archangel's hair, now even wavier from dampness, and studied the face that he likened to an Esserru. As opposed to Archangel, Ztar felt renewed. Archangel opened his eyes and looked at Ztar questioningly.

"What did we do? It was…something…different." Warren was suddenly cold and he shivered.

Ztar smiled lovingly. "I'm not quite sure. Whatever it was, it was like nothing I've ever experienced. Words can't describe the feelings, my Archangel. You were magnificent." He leaned down and kissed the soft lips gently. "Sleep now," he said tenderly in Archangel's ear, pulling the blankets around them to warm the human.

"I don't think we should do that again. Don't ask me why, but something says no," Warren said with the last of his strength, closing his eyes.

Disappointment briefly washed over Ztar, but he shook it off. He'd trust Archangel on this as whatever had happened between them, it was Archangel that lay drained and weak. Ztar had obviously taken something from him. He would not jeopardize his beloved for his own desires.

"Then never again, my Archangel. Please, rest now."

Warren could no longer hold off the need and he gave in, quickly falling into a profound, dreamless sleep.

Ztar laid next to his companion, moved an arm beneath him carefully as to not damaged any feathers, and pulled him close. Ztar wasn't sleepy. Apparently, what he had somehow received from Archangel had dispelled that need.

His mind drifted back to Jharda and the bombing and the contentment slipped away quickly. Who carried out this atrocity? One of the rebellious star systems? Another Turzent supremacy group bent on disrupting the transition? Someone else altogether? Whoever it was, he would not rest until he had hunted them down and made them pay the ultimate price. There would be nowhere in the galaxy they could hide from his vengeance. If Jharda was indeed dead, he would make them suffer.

Ztar jumped when the chamber door chimed. Easing his way out of the bed, grabbing a robe on the way, he answered. It was Sukja and the empathic feeling was cautious happiness.

"She's alive, Ztar," Sukja said entering the chambers.

Ztar could scarcely believe the words. "Alive?!"

"But in very serious condition. We may still lose her, my Emperor. The physicians make no promises. Her injuries are very bad," Sukja prepared his ruler.

"Then I must go to her."

### --- ###

Jharda Myrundra didn't look like Jharda. She lay in the hospital bed surrounded by bio-scanners and monitors with various drug bands and nutrient cuffs on her arms. The swelling in her body was not yet completely under control. Deep bruising and lacerations were still evident wherever skin was visible. The doctors had already repaired many of the less severe injuries, and the bio-enhancing drugs sped up her body's natural healing abilities to the point that many of the minor cuts and bruising were already barely detectable. Her internal damage had also been repaired by the skilled physicians at Talliose Medical. The other major injuries would take longer to repair – the loss of an eye and a leg. Damaged beyond the medical team's ability to save, prostheses would replace what Jharda had lost in the explosion. Everything that could be done for the member of Ztar's royal court had been done. The rest was up to Jharda.

The Emperor sat next to her bed, watching the slow, steady breathing, almost afraid to look away in fear it may stop. "Live, Jharda," he said to her softly, holding her cool hand. "Just live."

The hours slid away, one by one. Physicians, assistants, and others came and went out in a constant flow. They rarely spoke directly to Ztar, but instead to the guard stationed in the room. "Do you think the Emperor would like some food or water?" "The Emperor should get some rest." "Is there anything or anyone we could get for Emperor Ztar?" Most times, he simply ignored them, unless he had a question regarding Jharda's condition or treatment. He kept a light telepathic touch on his former lover's mind to detect any rise toward consciousness. As yet, there was none.

"Why does she remain unconscious?" he asked, growing concerned over how long it had already been.

"There was some brain trauma. In addition, her injuries are such that it is best for her to sleep, so we're keeping her sedated."

"How much longer?"

"Jharda's body will tell us when she ready to awaken."

Ztar could push his mind deeper into Jharda's to link up with her, yet he felt that unwise. 'Let her rest,' he told himself. As Ztar watched over her hour after hour, Jharda's body healed the lesser lacerations almost before his eyes with the aid of the enhancement drugs. Bruises melted away slowly and the swelling in her traumatized body receded. Drugs only went so far, could only push the body so hard. Jharda's body needed time more than anything to deal with the massive injuries.

"Where's her family?" Ztar asked one of the medical assistants who came in and out. He knew Jharda had family, but was not close to them. Her father had died many years ago and her mother was usually more interested in her own life than her child's. Jharda's brother, on the other hand, did stay in touch. That was about as much as Ztar knew.

"Her staff has been unable to locate her mother, but her brother is en route. He should be here tomorrow."

Until then, Ztar would stay by Jharda's side. Once her brother arrived and if she was stable, Ztar would return to Sat'rey. At times wished he'd allowed Archangel or Sukja come with him as they offered, but he had declined. Then again, he wanted to be alone with her. This was his vigil.

On day two, an hour or so before Jharda's brother was scheduled to arrive, a physician and her assistant entered the room. "Emperor, I need to ask you to wait outside for a bit. We're going to wake her."

As Ztar moved toward the door, the physician spoke again. "This could take some time. Perhaps you should consider getting something to eat."

Ztar knew it was likely not the waking that would take the time, but the explaining. Ztar's heart hurt for Jharda. He merely sat in a private lounge and waited. The mental link signaled to him when Jharda awoke. It transmitted her confused, cloudy thinking. With that, Ztar ended the link; he would give Jharda her privacy as the doctors informed her of her losses.

Sometime later, Ztar's guard stepped over to him. "Sir, she is asking for you."

Ztar strode quickly to her room and immediately spotted someone who could only be her brother – they looked remarkably alike. The man turned, bowed slightly, and approached. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"Emperor, my name is Jhadren. I am Jharda's brother. Thank you for being at her side. Your presence means much to her."

"Jharda is very dear to me. I would be no other place."

Jhadren turned back toward his sister who was watching the exchange through one eye, the other side of her face covered with syntha.

"Ztar," was all she said, weakly reaching toward him with one hand.

He was quickly at her side, enveloping her small hand within his. "Jharda, I am so sorry. I will find who did this, I vow to you. They will pay for what they did!"

She smiled, then winced in pain. Ztar squeezed her hand more tightly. "No talk of vengeance, my warrior emperor," her voice barely above a whisper. "But find them so they cannot do this to someone else." Then it was as if she had no more energy for words and closed her eyes.

"It will be done, Jharda."

Shortly after, he left his Head of Planetary Relations in the caring hands of her brother. The physicians said she would live – his prayers were answered. Now they needed to find out who was responsible. Once aboard the Mi-Lartui, his first comm was to Gtar-Cro.

"Anything yet, General?"

"Lots of denials, no acceptances of responsibility as yet."

'Cowards!' was his knee-jerk reaction, yet he knew those responsible would declare themselves and their message soon enough.

"I will show no mercy for this, not only for Jharda and the others who died or were injured, but for all our people. We cannot allow a few extremists to disrupt our plans for a better empire."

"We will not, my Emperor." The General's face softened and Ztar knew the subject was about to change. "How is Jharda?"

"The physicians say physically she will make a full recovery. The prostheses will give back most of what she lost. It is her emotional recovery that is less certain."

"She is strong, Emperor. Jharda will survive this." The voice was filled with conviction.

"I pray to the gods that you are right, General."

### --- ###

The news came a few days after the attack - The Mennisa Freedom Fighters took responsibility. What raised questions was that the group up until then did not seem to have the resources needed to pull off a major incident such as the Mon Genesis bombing. That had everyone worried. Where was the newfound sophistication coming from?

### --- ###

"Are you certain you and Archangel should still go to Fjai with everything that has happened?" Sukja asked his Emperor. In the aftermath of the bombing, Fjai had commed to inquire if the Emperor and Archangel wished to postpone.

Ztar nodded in the affirmative. "Something good could come from the trip, Archangel said. A positive in the midst of the negative. I agree. It's only for a few days. Anything that comes up, I can handle from there, and if not, we'll leave immediately."

Sukja contemplated the pros and cons as he sat across the desk from Ztar. They were likely right. The chance to contribute to finding cure for the fatal W-Q virus would be of incalculable value to many lives. Even with a vaccine available, the virus still claimed many lives, as it wasn't completely effective. Sukja knew from his research that the medical community was afraid with each passing year that the virus would mutate rendering their vaccine useless. A cure was needed before that happened. The clock was possibly ticking.

"Then I will go ahead with my visit to Ozjaer," Sukja stated.

"Please do. It has been a long time since you were home."

'Too long,' the Ozjaerian thought, but didn't share. "I will coordinate with Archangel, Fjai, and General Gtar-Cro to set the plans in motion. Did the General indicate how much longer the high-alert status will be in effect?"

Ztar pushed back from his desk with both hands and sighed. "I'm certain Gtar-Cro will drop it soon. Whether or not it's in effect, you should expect additional security forces to accompany you. I can't image the General will back off on that anytime soon."

"I anticipated as much," the aide confirmed rising from the chair.

"Gtar-Cro will not be pleased either way…with your plans or mine," Ztar added with a lopsided smirk. Sometimes he liked going against the General's wishes if simply to gently irk his fellow Turzent. "He wants us to stay safely tucked away at the palace."

Sukja returned the grin knowing the sometimes small pleasure Ztar got from riling the man responsible for his safety. "No doubt this will cause him endless hours of worry."

"Endless!"

### --- ###

The tensions mounted one upon another. Pressure and stress had him in a vise. Two weeks since Mon Genesis and already other resistance groups had attempted two copycat bombings. Military Intelligence thwarted those plans, barely. While the spike in terrorist activity was expected, it was no less infuriating and frightening. This was a critical juncture in the transition. Enough time had passed since the start of the transition that various groups had gathered their resources, laid their plans, and were now at the point of execution.

Ztar paced in his office after yet another round of reports from Generals Gtar-Cro and Rehsaw. Military Intelligence was making good progress in the Mon Genesis investigation, but Gtar-Cro begged the Emperor's indulgence in giving him more time before requesting any in-depth report. Ztar admired that in his general – Gtar-Cro was thorough, detailed, and not quick to jump to conclusions. He'd give the fact-driven man time to complete his work.

Mennisa System unrest continued and Rehsaw urged Ztar to go in with a strong force and deal with the problem once and for all. Rehsaw's plan could squelch the resistance short-term, yet Ztar saw long-term damage in that action by adding slow-burning fuel to the fire that would reignite with even more intensity once military troops withdrew. No, Ztar would not seek short-term gains for long-term losses. A more diplomatic approach was needed with the people of Mennisa who had been taken from the Commonwealth through a border shift during the dispassionate peace talks – a bargaining chip played skillfully by Ztar and his negotiators. Time and compassion was required for wounds of that nature to heal.

He stopped in front of the liquor cabinet and poured some Raimami despite being earlier in the day than he would normally partake in alcohol. 'All the tensions and pressures now driving you to drink?' he warned himself sternly.

Thinking of Archangel reminded Ztar of the upcoming trip to Fjai. Ztar was uncomfortable despite knowing every precaution would be taken to ensure nothing was amiss with the medical facility's interest in Archangel. Gtar-Cro assured as best he could that Fjai was honorable in their request. Yet doubts nagged at Ztar. Archangel, though, had made his decision and Ztar would abide by that, but he didn't have to like it.

The personal aftermath of Mon Genesis weighed heavy on Ztar. Jharda's physicians said she would be released shortly. All of the physical healing that required her to be at Talliose Medical had been accomplished, including the attachment of the prostheses. The work of learning to use the devices as if they were a natural part of her would be done through therapy and simply living life. While physically Jharda was well on her way, mentally was another issue. The strong-willed Turzent woman was balking at emotional therapy, which did not at all surprise Ztar. He hoped Jharda would come to see how important that aspect of her recovery was and participate.

Sipping the Raimami, Ztar gazed through his balcony door, out across the palace landscape, and reviewed some of the other issues facing him and his empire. The Etagllot – the possibility that organization was alive and thriving sent dread to his very bones. 'I pray to the gods that we're wrong,' he sent the thought out across the valley.

Mygra System continued to be almost as problematic as Mennisa. Then there were the other systems that wanted the infant constitution amended with various clauses from their old governments they believed would "enhance" the Empire's new form of government. Ztar ordered his Imperial staff to send the message loud and clear – no changes to the constitution until it had a chance to prove itself as written. That meant at least five years of being fully enacted. Those systems weren't happy with that message. One planetary representative even dared to characterize the constitution as hollow – the people's rights only an illusion since what the people wanted were amendments and they had been denied.

"Where's the wisdom in tinkering with a constitution that hasn't even been fully realized?" Ztar had asked. "Give our new government the time it needs to stabilize and mature, then we'll consider changing what does not fulfill the intent," he had explained, feeling like he was talking with impatient children. They remained unhappy and vowed to continue their campaign.

Then there was the epidemic on Paath. Luckily, it was contained before it spread much beyond that system. However, the people's fears were growing and attempts to break quarantine were escalating as the previously unknown virus began to claim victims at an increasing rate. Local health officials were quickly becoming taxed to their limits and Finance Minister Yramma e'Troz, who also oversaw Imperial health resources, was sending people, money, and other aid to Paath System in hopes of quickly finding a cure, a vaccine, or both.

Arythwae, the small single-planet system that had been hit hard by losses in war with the Commonwealth, was experiencing devastating natural disasters. Ztar's heart bled for those valiant people who had been staunch supporters of Ztar's since the beginning. He had brought them much economic benefit and the planet and its people had flourished after their entry into the Empire. But now their world was being rocked by disaster after disaster. What was happening there? Once again, Imperial resources were sent to try to determine the underlying cause of the environmental upheavals that seemed to come from out of nowhere. Again, the Imperial coffers were opened and money and other aid flowed to the Arythwaens.

Those coffers were strained to the max. Stern warnings continued to be issued by e'Troz. The Turzent/Commonwealth war had nearly depleted Imperial funds and they hadn't yet recovered. The government transition came with a hefty price tag and while much of the cost was borne by each system as it transitioned, they clamored to be compensated for those expenses. Elections and governmental restructuring did not come cheap they professed with hands extended. And no one wanted to talk about increased system contributions to replenish the coffers! Raise taxes? Now? How could Ztar's court even suggest such a thing?!

The problems mounted. Civil unrest. Terrorists. Transition belly-aching. Money. Plagues. Global disasters. And when push came to shove, all eyes ultimately looked to him for the answers. "By the gods, the transition can't be completed soon enough!" he lamented to the horizon. Once that was fully in completed, others would take most of the burdens from him. He would no longer be dragged down by the daily challenges, and could focus on the long-term vision and goals of the Empire he forged. Ztar could guide and plan for where he saw the Empire 20, 30 years from now. He could watch from above the ruckus and ensure than the long-term vision was being served. At least that was the hope. Whether or not it would play out that way only time would tell.

His empire was staggering from upheaval. Was it strong enough to survive? Was he strong and wise enough to ensure it did? With a heavy sigh, he turned away from the window to face the myriad of issues waiting for him on his PI.

### --- ###

Three weeks after Mon Genesis and Jharda Myrundra was home recuperating her aide had informed the Emperor. He immediately commed. The face that presented itself smiled, but Ztar knew Jharda too well. He didn't need his telepathy or empathic ability to see that she was in emotional pain.

"Jharda, how is my head of planetary relations?"

Her face took on a determined look. "I am recovering, my Emperor. I hope to return to that title soon."

"Take as long as you need," he encouraged. "You must fully regain your strength first."

"_Work_ would help me regain my strength, but the physicians are adamantly against that."

Ztar had spoken with Jharda's physician and he knew exactly what they had told her. Rest and rehabilitation, including learning to use her prostheses was to be her work for the next several weeks. "They only wish you to make a full recovery. Your health must be top priority at this time."

"I can work from here, my Emperor. Much of what I do is via comm. There is no persuasive reason I cannot resume some of my duties. Not too much too soon – I understand my limitations and would begin slowly."

Her eyes looked almost pleading. He knew Jharda may have good intentions of easing into her responsibilities, but would quickly be caught up in the work and be back at it full-force.

"That is what you say, yet we both know that would last for a couple days at most. You are too driven to ease into anything, Jharda," he said with an appreciative smile.

"My Emperor, please… I need to return to work. It will be good for me."

"It will be good for you when you are ready and can give yourself completely to it again, but you are not yet able to do that. You are still healing, emotionally and physically. Let that be your focus and apply your boundless energy to that duty. When you do return to service, I need you at 100 percent. Anything less at this critical time in our Empire would not be wise. Jharda, you cannot give me 100 percent right now." He hoped appealing to her sense of ultimate duty would convince the determined woman.

He could tell just from the change in expression, she was considering another angle. "It is because this is such a critical time that I need to be working. My staff is very competent, but their experience and skill only go so far. Their words do not carry the same weight as mine. In addition, we need to present an image of strength and steadiness in the aftermath of the bombing. By returning to my position, it would be reassuring to the people that we have not been shaken by the attack."

By the gods he admired the woman. Such courage and determination! Yet the words of caution by her physician echoed in his mind. As Jharda recovered physically, the emotional wounds would begin to surface in all their ferocity. The trauma needed to be dealt with if she was going to truly survive the attack whole and strong.

"A very convincing argument, Jharda of the Royal Court of Ztar. You represent my court well," he commended and watched as an expression crossed her face he'd seen before when Jharda felt she'd won a point. 'Not so fast,' he thought of her to himself. "I look forward to the day when you return to service. Today is not that day. Nor is tomorrow or the day after."

"My Emperor!" she nearly cried as the expression deflated. "I can-"

"No, Jharda, you cannot. Not at the moment. You have too much work before you to heal than to take on the enormous stress and workload that you carry normally with such ease. I will not needlessly jeopardize the voice of my Empire by allowing her to return too soon. You will follow your physician's orders, you will heal yourself physically and mentally so that you can return to your duties at your very best."

Years of light telepathic monitoring and comparing that knowledge against facial expressions and body language had honed Ztar's skills in reading all of his members of court. Having been intimate with Jharda long ago gave him yet another peek into her inner mental workings. Jharda was contemplating another attempt to persuade her Emperor, he could read it in her face and eyes as easily as if she was in the same room and he could read her thoughts.

"That is my command, Jharda Myrundra," he said firmly to nip another argument before it started.

"Yes, my Emperor," she acknowledged looking none too happy.

Then to help Jharda through any feelings of not being part of the inner imperial workings, he would ask for her advice. "I do have some questions of you, however, regarding Ennovy-Eiram unification reception. If you are not too tired as yet, perhaps you can assist me with that."

He believed not for a moment that she saw the ploy as anything other than what it was. While she may see through him, she would provide the assistance. It would accomplish the same in the end – it would refocus her mind and help her feel less disconnected.

### --- ###

Ztar was very agitated that evening. Warren knew some of what was causing it – the attack involving Jharda, the many issues and problems surrounding the governmental transition, Imperial financial problems, and the widespread unrest in the Mennisa and Mygra systems; Mennisa in particular, since it had just declared itself independent from the Empire in a bold and risky move. He also knew Ztar was greatly troubled by the Etagllot problem that seemed to grow in magnitude the more they investigated. It was also probable that the upcoming trip to Fjai was also weighing on Ztar. Likely, there was much more that Warren wasn't aware of.

Regardless of the reasons, Ztar was being aggressive. It surprised Warren – Ztar hadn't been like this for a very long time. He came down hard on Warren's mouth with enough force as to likely have caused bruising. Where his hands roamed, the pressure was a tad too much and boarded on painful. At first, Warren tried to simply be gentle in return, hoping the aggression would ease. Warren kept his wings tucked in close when it became obvious that tactic wasn't effective.

Ztar took Archangel's mouth into his. He wanted his companion to take him away from the endless troubles and aggravations. So many issues, one stacked atop another, seeming to want to bury him alive. Returning freedom to the people he had known would come with a price, but dealing with that price was growing daily. Had he made a horrible mistake? He stopped himself from going down that path. What was done, was done. He would not go back. The dream was being tested – he was being tested. He would not abandon it just because the road was difficult. Instead, he would focus on the wonderful distraction beneath him.

When Ztar finally released his mouth to work his way past Warren's ear and neck, he choose to speak up. "Ztar, a little gentler, please. You're forgetting yourself," he said softly as to not further irritate. Ztar seemed to ignore him, but the roughness eased as Ztar continued to explore Warren with his mouth. Lips followed the trail of Ztar's fingers, down the shoulder, to the wing, up the arch and down. Warren spread the wing now that Ztar was being more restrained.

Ztar heard Archangel's request and it irked him in spite of himself, knowing that he was likely being somewhat rough. He'd been so careful for so long, couldn't Archangel give him a little latitude once in a while? The human had no idea how difficult it was to always hold back in the heat of passion. Tonight of all nights, he wanted to let go. His body needed the release. He wanted unencumbered sex. Then Archangel opened his wing; always an encouraging sign. 'Good!'

Fingertips trailed down the feathers in one long stroke sending shivers through Warren as it always did. It was an auto-response that he could never stifle as many times in the past as he had tried. Too many nerve endings sending signals to his brain. He often wondered why a touch would do that, yet the rush of wind across the feathers did not. Different signals was the only answer he had ever come up with. And with the caress of fingers came the sexual response if those fingers knew what they were doing. Ztar's did and with great skill. The second time Ztar combed down the wing, Warren heard himself moan in pleasure as the wave of sexual heat raced from the wing through the rest of his body.

When Archangel's fingers dug into Ztar's arm, he knew he had once again ignited the human. Ztar continued to explore the magnificent body lying beneath him. He wanted that body so desperately. To take it; have it submit to him and fulfill his escalating desire. 'Give to me,' he commanded Archangel without sharing it.

Ztar pressed Archangel harder into the bed, running his hands up and down the muscular torso, squeezing the right places, and massaging the erogenous areas. Archangel responded in kind and when Ztar worked his way back up the human's body, he grasped Ztar's mouth urgently inviting him in. His companion's response ratcheted up his desire. He accepted the invitation, sliding his hands beneath Archangel once again to find the sweet spots where flesh met feather. The human moaned through the kiss and his body shuddered. In that instant, Ztar's mind and body burst into raging flames that threatened to consume him. He would have this trembling creature beneath him, wholly and completely.

The first time Ztar hit those spots at the wing bases, it was pure sexual delight. Warren did everything he could to encourage more of the same. Then something changed, Ztar's body tightened and pain intertwined with pleasure the next time he pressed into the points. Now Warren's body was torn between the two opposing sensations. The old saying 'hurts so good' jumped to mind.

Ztar moved from one wing base, up the edge to the arch joint, squeezing as he went, working his way down the rest of the way. A little harder, a little more pressure…he wanted to do so much more.

The Emperor was getting rough again. Should he say something, Warren wondered. Then Ztar hit a particularly sensitive point and pressed his thumb into it hard. Warren gasped. Decision made. "Too hard, Ztar. Ease up a little." Warren tried not to let emotion seep into his voice. Ztar didn't respond, but groped the wing, digging fingers between the feathers, probing deeply into the nerve-packed membrane. Warren grasped Ztar's offending hand and moved it off the wing. "That hurt. Stop," he requested more firmly.

Annoyance flooded Ztar. How dare his companion command him to stop! It was Archangel's duty to fulfill his Emperor's desire. Ztar rose up on an elbow to stare down at the human.

Warren released Ztar's wrist when the man pulled up. What Warren saw there sent shivers down his spine. That old look!

"Do _not_ deny me tonight, Archangel." The voice was commanding.

It is what Warren had feared and Sukja had once warned him about. Ztar could occasionally backslide, especially if under a lot of stress. He needed to pull the Emperor back from the edge.

"I won't, but a little less enthusiasm," he offered gently with a smile, hoping to soften the Emperor's mood.

Ztar didn't reply, but dove in for a savage kiss. The hand Warren had released then thrust beneath him to find the place at the wing base that was most erogenous. What came next was not even close to pleasurable, but pain-filled as the strong fingers found their mark. Warren hissed into Ztar's mouth and rose up against the Ztar's chest. He tried to tear his mouth away from Ztar's, but the much stronger Turzent would not permit that, holding Warren's head firmly from behind. He pulled his wings in to shield them as best he could while he grappled with what to do. Any physical aggression from Warren to defend himself could ignite the Turzent even more as experience from long ago had taught him. That wouldn't be good for either of them. But how much pain was Warren willing to put up with to get through this and then talk with Ztar afterward when he had calmed down? He decided to continue subtly discouraging the aggression.

The kiss continued a bit longer, then Ztar broke away, bit Warren's lip to the point where it nearly broke skin, and nipped his neck painfully. Both hands were now at that super-sensitive spots where wing met back, massaging firmly. A mix of pleasure and pain flooded him and his body grew increasingly conflicted about wanting more and wanting it to stop. He shuddered and moaned. Ztar looked at him with that.

"See, my Archangel, a little pain can be good!" Ztar's voice was husky and sharp, as he kneaded a thumb into one of the spots again.

In spite of the pain and against his wishes, Warren's body was responding to the stimulation. The pain/pleasure did feel good in a way that Warren didn't want it to. Ztar smiled down at Warren knowingly. The empathic connection was obviously working.

"Spread your wings… let me have you."

Sexual heat was consuming Warren quickly as his body demanded more. He wanted to stop, yet not. His head was spinning from the opposing desires. "Not too much," was all he could say.

With the half-invitation, Ztar unleashed himself, taking his companion with an intensity he hadn't allowed himself for a long time. It was a relief felt physically and mentally, as Ztar eased back on the self-imposed constraints of strength and powerful urges he'd held in place for nearly a year. Fingers dug into hair, teeth sunk into flesh, hands ran through feathers, tongue entwined tongue. 'By the gods, this is what I've needed!' Yet he maintained enough awareness to ensure there were pleasurable sensations blended with the less so, all guided by their empathic link. He immersed himself in the maelstrom of emotion and physical sensations swirling within the human being fueled the fire raging in the Turzent – he fell into the closed, endless feedback loop.

To Warren, it felt like he was drowning in a never-ending cascade of pain versus pleasure. It was stimulation overload and he shuddered beneath Ztar. He had a hard time catching his breath. Each time he tried to physically resist or speak out, Ztar blocked his mouth with his or hit him with another onslaught of delirious sensation, rendering Warren mute. 'Ztar – stop! Enough!' he called out telepathically to the Turzent. 'I need this,' came the reply, immediately followed by a wave of Warren's own need as Ztar slowly combed through one wing to keep him fired up.

It all became overwhelming. Sharp pain at the wing base while his groin burned with desire. Sensual caresses up and down his torso, while Ztar's mouth took his in a crushing kiss that bruised lips. 'No more…don't…' Warren struggled to even form a thought. Then he felt Ztar shifting their positions.

Ztar wanted Archangel now in one swift, full-hilt thrust and then to plunge in and out of his lover for as long as he could hold off the evitable. Archangel's body stiffened. He heard the human's projected thought, 'No!' but did not heed it. He would ensure there was equalizing erotic pleasure with his entry. 'Let me in now, my Archangel,' he commanded telepathically.

Warren tried to resist, to say no, but what his head wanted versus what his body desired were two different things. His body won the battle and he did not resist. When the Turzent entered him, the tearing, burning pain came instantly, but even before he could gasp, Ztar worked his magic on the wings and pain collided explosively with pleasure. A cry of pain/pleasure escaped him and he shuddered violently. Then all Warren could do was hang on for the cyclone ride as Ztar rode him for what seemed like forever. Part of him wanted the painful sex to end while another was reveling in the carnal heat.

Ztar's brain could no longer process thought as the pure eroticism of the moment swept him up and engulfed him. Archangel's mix of moans and cries pushed the Emperor to drive harder and deeper. When release came, Ztar felt as if all the stress and anger was expelled with it. He nearly collapsed onto his companion, who was trembling and groaning softly. He closed his eyes and laid his head on Archangel's chest, listening to the rapid heart beat and breathing. The Turzent emperor fell asleep to those rhythmic sounds.

As Ztar dozed off, Warren recovered, the pain fading as his body performed its healing magic. This had not been a good night. Ztar had backslid, turning Warren's fear into reality. He prayed that it was a one-time occurrence and not a pattern. Then his own mind and body grew sleepy. 'Thinking can keep 'til morning,' he told himself and followed Ztar into slumber.

###

The next morning, Warren was up earlier than Ztar as usual. Without turning on the lights, he pulled on nightwear bottoms, grabbed a large mug of coffee, and plunked down in the sitting area to read the latest news on his PI while waiting for Ztar to wake. They had to talk. Last night concerned Warren. For one, if Ztar were ever that aggressive with another bedmate, they would end up in the infirmary. For another, Ztar didn't stop when Warren asked. After a while, the Emperor stirred and then sat up, looking over at Warren.

"Good morning," he greeted the Emperor.

Ztar nodded an acknowledgment as he rose to head to the bathroom, grabbing clothes along the way. Soon Warren heard the shower. It was a long while before Ztar exited, but Warren waited, foregoing the best time of morning for a flight.

When Ztar emerged, he scanned the room. The human was still there. He had hoped Archangel would have gone for his morning exercise and he could slip away to his office. Ztar half-assumed the reason he hadn't – the human had that look that said "We need to talk." He was less than pleased with himself over last night's activities, and slightly embarrassed, if he had to admit it. That embarrassment made him irritable. Talking would only accentuate it.

'Might as well dive right in,' Warren figured. "Ztar, I want to talk about last night."

Ztar didn't. "I've pressing business this morning. It will have to wait," he replied more dismissively than he intended, moving quickly toward the door. Maybe he'd be lucky enough to escape.

"No, Ztar. I want to talk now," Warren stated firmly. The Turzent would not get off that easily.

Ztar stood with his had poised above the door control panel. Just a bit closer and the door would activate and he'd make good his escape. Back his hand off, and he'd be pulled into a conversation that he didn't want to have this early in the morning. His hand hovered.

"Don't walk out on me, Ztar," came the warning. That made his decision. He was Emperor, he would not be ordered like that. His hand lowered to the control and he slipped through the door before it had even opened fully.

"Son of a bitch!" came in angry tones from Archangel as the door slid shut.

Now Warren was steamed. A backslide by Ztar was not unexpected. Actually, he was surprised that Ztar had not done so before this, but to walk out on talking about it? Warren had three choices as he saw it. He could follow Ztar and insist on talking now. He could wait and talk tonight. He could let this incident pass without mentioning it again.

The first choice would likely lead to an argument considering Warren's mood at the moment and Ztar's apparent orneriness. The second choice could be more productive if both were able to keep their emotions in check. The third option may be Ztar's choice, but Warren wasn't sure he wanted to give Ztar any wiggle room on this matter. If he backslid once without ramifications, it may be all too easy to do so again.

Yet it burned him that Ztar walked out. 'What the hell!' He exited their chambers and headed toward Ztar's office where the Emperor should have gone. When he got there, the door was closed. He pressed the control panel – his was one of very few bio-sigs the door would open to unless locked. The door did not move.

'Damn it all!' He chimed the room. Nothing. Had Ztar not gone to his office or was he ignoring the chime?

He proceeded down the hall to Sukja's office. The Ozjaerian's door was also closed; he chimed and entered when invited. "Good morning!" Sukja greeted cheerily.

"Morning," he replied curtly. "Have you seen Ztar?" Warren asked getting right to the point of the early morning intrusion.

Sukja did a quick assessment of Archangel – the tone, a minor scowl, the wings a bit scruffy looking, still in his nightwear. Something was amiss. "I assume he's not in his office?"

"I don't know, the door is locked, and there's no response to the chime." Warren was becoming more irritated in spite of knowing that it would be counterproductive.

"Let's check the bio-sig record," Sukja said, tapping into that secure database. What he found the human would not like. Ztar's last bio-sig was to his office. That didn't mean he hadn't left, only that he hadn't activated any other bio-sig controls since.

Warren read the Ozjaerian face. "He's in there, isn't he?"

"He may have stepped out again, there's no way to know."

"Oh, he's in there alright!" and Warren headed down the hall, into his old chambers, and out the balcony. A few seconds later he was on the balcony off Ztar's office. There the Emperor sat at his desk, PI in hand. Warren rapped on the patio door, startling the Turzent.

'Damn the gods!' he cursed himself. He'd remembered to lock the door and had ignored the chime, but he had forgotten the second floor balcony was easily accessible to the human. That human looked all too upset.

"Ztar, open the door." Warren tried to be calm, but firm.

Ztar contemplated his options. He could ignore Archangel's request and let him stand out there. He could leave his office. Or he could let Archangel in. The first two options would likely mean a very upset human. His third option meant dealing with something he'd rather just forget.

With a heavy sigh, Ztar got up, unlocked and activated the door. The glass glided away from between them, but Ztar blocked the human's way into his office. "Archangel, let's talk tonight. My morning is quite busy."

"You have no appointments until mid-morning. It's not even time for breakfast yet. I would think you could spare a few minutes for _me_."

Ztar did not miss the emphasis on 'me.' He sighed. Perhaps he could cut this short. "Archangel, I apologize for last night. I got carried away. Too much stress right now. It won't happen again." He tried to sound apologetic. It was what his companion wanted, he was certain of it. And he did regret his slip into aggression, but the embarrassment was something he wasn't used to feeling and it was making him pricklier by the moment.

Warren listened to the half-hearted apology. He could accept it and drop the issue, or not. "That was lame. You promised me before you wouldn't go down that path, but you did. And when I asked you to stop, you didn't. Why?" Warren asked trying to sound more concerned than angry. Anger would get them nowhere quickly.

Ztar turned his back to his companion and walked toward his desk. It was too early in the day for this. He hadn't even eaten yet, as Archangel had pointed out. "I apologized. What more do you want?"

How was it, Warren asked himself, those two sentences linked together apparently transcended species? God, they were irritating! Add to it the fact that Ztar literally turned his back on Warren again. Things were not heading in a good direction.

"Perfect, Ztar. Not only does your apology ring hollow, but you're walking away from me for the second time this morning." Warren suppressed his irritation as best he could, but it came through in his tone and words in spite of his attempt otherwise.

The Emperor swung around with a look of annoyance. "I have apologized. If you choose not to accept that, there's nothing more I can do! You're being difficult. Now I have work to do before my meetings." As soon as the words were uttered, Ztar regretted them. 'Too harsh!' came the immediate self-reprimand.

'Let it go for now,' Warren told himself sternly. 'Nothing good will come of pressing the issue this morning.' He turned and with one strong beat and a jump, he was in the sky. He headed out over the valley, chilly morning air quickly penetrating his thin nightwear.

'Maybe I should let it pass. It was just this one time,' he considered soaring through the morning sunlight. He let the golden glow and cool air wash away his irritation. Coming to a hover far above and beyond the palace, he spied Ztar out on his balcony, obviously searching the sky. Perhaps his abrupt departure made an impact.

He flew further out over the valley to where Ztar could no longer see him. Riding the currents, he let them dispel the negative emotions. Though he was chilled, the cold air felt oddly good. He stopped beating his wings and gently spiraled high above Sat'rey. He looked down at this alien world he now called home. 'Home for now at least,' he reminded himself.

Warren still struggled with his decision to stay with the man who had taken so much from him and caused him so much pain and anguish in the past. He continued to believe it had been the right decision, and it was becoming easier to stay as time passed. Ztar had changed so much the past year, but last night drove home how tenuous that change might be. 'Old habits die hard, as they say.' Yet Ztar was under incredible stress. If he wasn't, likely the episode would not have occurred. 'Rather than be angry, lover boy, perhaps you should have been more helpful. After all, your whole reason for being here is to help Ztar heal – not browbeat him when he takes a single misstep.'

The more Warren contemplated, the more he realized he may have indeed over-reacted. Ztar didn't revert completely, after all. He didn't lose total control. That's something. What it did drive home was that the Emperor still had a ways to go in the healing department. He headed back toward the palace.

###

Far below, Ztar was now very worried. He would have been less so if they had ended up fighting. That he was comfortable with. Archangel simply flying off, that made him uneasy. What if Archangel decided Ztar wasn't worth staying for? Hadn't Ztar talked with Sukja about that very issue not along ago? Panic started to creep in around the edges. 'What did I _do_ last night? I hurt him and didn't care – old Ztar behavior. What if I've given him reason to leave? Is that what he's thinking about right now?'

Ztar watched Archangel disappear from view and his heart lurched. "By the gods, you are a fool, Ztar!" he voiced aloud as his chest tightened. 'This isn't like before – he can leave any time.' Their petty little arguments and butting heads as Archangel called it were nothing but tension releasers, but last night…that was entirely different. That would bring back all the reasons Archangel should abhor Ztar.

'What if I've driven him away?' Ztar closed his eyes and gripped the balcony rail as the fear gripped him. 'I've reminded him what a monster I can still be.' Ztar's mind began racing, remembering every detail of the previous night's activity, focusing on Archangel's requests to stop, to ease up, to be gentle. 'You didn't listen, Emperor. You hurt him knowing you were hurting him. Damnable fool! Selfish bastard!'

He began to shake as the self-condemnation continued. 'He was giving you a chance to explain – to show you did regret what you had done. But what did you do? Brushed him aside – twice! Showed him again what you really are. Why should he stay? _You_ wouldn't stay!'

The fear engulfed him, swiftly and completely. Archangel would leave. Ztar had not changed, that is what the human would rightfully conclude. It had all been an act – a cover up. A little stress and the cruel Emperor is resurrected. He reached out with his mind, desperate to bring his Archangel back, but stopped himself too afraid of what he may read in his beloved's mind. He was not worthy of Archangel's commitment, just like he told Sukja. Archangel was foolish to stay; foolish to believe Ztar would change. Still gripping the rail, he went to his knees. 'My gods, what did I _do_?!'

Then it hit him from another perspective – by staying, Archangel was endangering _himself_. Ztar had injured his most precious companion and that he could not abide.

###

From his vantage point below, Moit'de watched as their Emperor sank to his knees. Should he summon Sukja? The man was in obvious distress. He had watched as Archangel had rapped on the door and demanded to be let in, only to leave a few moments later with a none too happy expression. An argument? They'd been doing that a lot the last couple months according to palace gossip. Moit'de didn't listen to most of the staff chat, except where it concerned his friend Archangel.

He worried for the human and the Emperor alike. Two lives diametrically opposed for four years now attempting to share a life. Yet that shared life was tenuous – Archangel staying to help Ztar, knowing eventually he'd leave. While their relationship had better soil than before when Ztar held Archangel against his will, the roots of their relationship were shallow, at least for Archangel. His commitment went only so deep. From all that Moit'de could determine, Ztar's roots in Archangel were entwined and very deep, perhaps too deep. He feared that when Archangel did leave, the pulling up may cause irreparable damage to Ztar.

Moit'de heard the beat of wings before he saw the human and watched as Archangel landed on the balcony. He hoped the two men could mend whatever the latest hurt was.

###

When Warren's sharp eyes saw Ztar on his knees, his chest tightened. 'Shit!' He came in for a landing, watching as Ztar raised his head at his approach. The face was filled with despair. 'Not good!' Then as Warren touched down near Ztar, the Emperor stood slowly, hands held fast to the rail.

"Ztar?" Warren asked tentatively. "Are you okay?"

Ztar gathered his strength. "You should go, Archangel."

"What? Go where?"

"Back home, where you're safe from me," Ztar wasn't sure he could say anything more. His throat tightened to the point he wasn't even sure he could breathe. He clung to the rail, the only thing keeping him standing.

Warren took a step.

"No! No closer. Just go!" the words choked him, Ztar couldn't catch air. 'You deserve this, mighty Emperor. You brought this on yourself. He needs to be away from you, where you can't hurt him.'

'Oh, this _is_ bad. You blew this one, Worthington. Should have stayed in your room. Now what?' He took another step toward the crestfallen Turzent, only to have Ztar back up an equal step.

"Ztar, listen to me. I'm not going anywhere. Do you understand? You'll have to lock me out." Warren added a smile at the end to reassure.

Ztar shook his head. He couldn't bring himself to meet Archangel's gaze and he looked down at his hands. "No, my Archangel, you need to-" Ztar swallowed to try to relieve the constriction in his throat, "you need to leave. It is not safe for you to stay. I'm still a monster. You can't trust me."

Warren knew not to tell Ztar he was over-reacting. What he felt, he felt. To Warren, the man was taking a mild back step and turning it into a complete reversion, which it certainly was not. 'Still vulnerable,' he concluded. Perhaps a completely different approach was in order. Something to prove to Ztar that Warren wasn't taking this as hard – that it wasn't that bad.

"You can be trusted and I do trust you. If I didn't, last night would have ended with you on Sukja's couch," he said with a very light laugh.

Ztar looked up sharply at his beloved. Archangel laughing? On Sukja's couch?

"You got a touch carried away last night. I accepted that and chose to stay. You're under a lot of stress right now. I sometimes do things I wouldn't normally when stressed out. It's just part of being…" Warren almost said part of being human "what we are – imperfect. If we can't forgive others for their missteps, then we certainly shouldn't be giving ourselves passes when we make mistakes. That's all last night was, Ztar, a misstep. The important thing is you feel bad about it. That's all I need to know."

Ztar considered Archangel's words. It was a terrible mistake and he did regret it, but Archangel was being too kind, too forgiving yet again. What if Ztar lost control again? How many times would Archangel forgive him?

"You assume it won't happen again. If I lost control once, it could happen again. Maybe next time it will be worse. No, you should not be here."

Warren took a slow step forward. Ztar remained where he was; good sign. "I assume no such thing. I hope it won't, but if it does, we'll deal with it."

"I don't want there to be a next time! I don't want to hurt you," Ztar latched onto the human's eyes. 'Does he really believe me? Does he still trust me?'

Another foot toward Ztar. He could almost touch the man now. "I know you don't. Let last night go, Ztar. I have. We'll be fine." He took the last step and placed his hand on Ztar's that was still wrapped in a death grip around the railing. It was times like these he wished he could say to Ztar that he loved him, but it would be a half-truth. He was growing to love the man as a friend and constant companion, but he was not in love with Ztar.

Ztar wasn't sure. He really didn't deserve the kindness Archangel was showing. Yet the feeling coming through their link was warmth woven with concern. Perhaps Archangel was right. Perhaps he should learn from the mistake of last night and do better. 'Yes, that is what Archangel would want.' For him to grow from this. He sighed aloud. He wouldn't make Archangel leave. 'Thank you gods of Sat'rey for bringing this person into my life whether I deserve him or not.'

"Very well, you can stay," Ztar announced, suddenly finding himself back in Emperor mode for some odd reason. It hadn't come out as he intended. His heart skipped a beat at the misspeak, but to his relief, Archangel only laughed.

Ztar's response wasn't quite what Warren expected, but he took it as a positive. Ztar was bouncing back quickly from his emotional crisis – encouraging. "As you command, my Emperor!" he said laughing. Then he moved against Ztar's chest, wrapped his arms around the large frame, and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. "I will stay – I'm all yours!" Warren knew Ztar would love the words.

How Archangel could change his mood from despair to delight in the space of moments Ztar couldn't comprehend. Those last six words made his heart sing. "By the gods I love you!"

Warren rested his head on Ztar's broad chest as the Turzent sunk his fingers into Warren's hair and held him close.

###

Below, Moit'de smiled. Archangel had worked his magic once again. The universe had been very wise in bringing Archangel into Ztar's life. Moit'de truly believed that if not for the human, Ztar would have continued down a very dark path and the future of their Empire would not look as bright as it now did.

The gardener returned to his gardening with a smile.

### --- ###

The plan was sound. Dityce had received all the approvals required for it to be executed. The targets were scheduled to depart to Gamas II in three days. His operatives were positioning themselves and final preparations underway. Now came the hard part – waiting.

Dityce thanked whatever deities might exist that the Emperor and his companion had not changed their plans in the wake of the Mon Genesis bombing. Why they hadn't, Officer Dityce could only surmise. The ruler had a bit of a reputation of going against his security's advice. Perhaps that was the case once again. If the Gamas II trip had been cancelled, his opportunity would have slipped through his fingers and when one would have presented itself again, he hadn't a clue. Thankfully, all the planning was not going to waste.

Closing his eyes, he ran through the scenario for what was likely the hundredth time. Everything was timed to seconds. All players had to be at their marks at the signal and each quick and flawless in their performance. So many details depending on too many people, but there was no option if he was going to pull this off.

### --- ###

Mi-Lartui settled in around Gamas II, the world Fjai Medical Research Facility orbited. Fjai station had docking capabilities only for smaller spacecraft, so Warren and Ztar would need to shuttle over. As part of their itinerary, Ztar scheduled a visit to the Fountain Plains for which Gamas II was famous. It was a natural attraction Archangel shouldn't miss.

"Fountain plains?" Warren asked. Ztar hadn't mentioned a side trip earlier.

"You simply have to see it," Ztar replied, not wanting to lessen the initial impact with too much information.

"Is Sukja coming or heading straight for Ozjaer?" Warren asked. He knew the Mi-Lartui would be continuing on to Sukja's homeworld after dropping Ztar and him off at GII as the locals called it. The aide was looking forward to a well-deserved vacation back home while the Emperor kept watch over Archangel on Fjai.

"He's heading straight there."

Ztar looked contemplative, prompting Warren to ask what he was thinking.

"I realized I can't recall that last time Sukja and I have been separated for any length of time. It will be a different experience."

Warren laughed. "You're spoiled and now you'll have to tie your own shoes and pick out your own clothes. Poor little Emperor!" he chided good-naturedly, snapping a towel at Ztar as the man walked by in the buff. While Warren performed many personal attendant duties for Ztar, Sukja retained some of his old responsibilities, not willing to let go entirely of that role; but none of those retained duties included what Warren had just teased Ztar about.

Ztar turned and snatched Warren's arm in a quick move and pulled him close. "I may have to exact a price for showing so little respect for your Emperor," Ztar snarled in a mock threat.

"I'm trembling!" Warren retorted, looking up into the deep brown eyes. Suddenly, those eyes filled with that look Warren knew well. Lust. But instead of acting on it, the Turzent released his arm and moved away.

"We should get down to GII before the best light of day is lost."

Warren was mildly surprised. Ztar rarely passed up an opportunity for a romp in bed and Warren hadn't realized they were in a hurry. Was this trip to the research facility bothering the Emperor more than he was letting on? The trip did have Warren on edge, mostly from the unknown and the question of how he was going to react. A little distraction, whether in bed or on the planet below, would be a good thing.

"Then if lighting is important for our mysterious destination, we better hustle," Warren offered lightly.

After a relatively short shuttle ride, Ztar and Warren debarked on a shuttle pad at their destination, three royal guards in tow. As soon as they stepped out of the shuttle, an almost a vinegary smell hit him. Nothing overwhelming, but not subtle either. Warren looked around and saw nothing but people of all types and sizes looking very much like tourists and many buildings offering food and various wares. The place was bustling, people smiling, kids running, visitors darting here and there or leisurely strolling.

'Like a typical tourist trap back on Earth,' he noted with amusement.

Warren also knew that somewhere in that crowd where security forces from Military Intelligence. MI was responsible for protecting the royal court along with their intelligence gathering duties. Thus, anytime the Emperor or member of court traveled, MI always sent a squad ahead to establish a security shield. Warren causally wondered how many additional guards mingled in the crowd in the wake of the attempted murder of Jharda.

Almost immediately, a formally dressed female approached the shuttle. "My Emperor and Archangel," she greeted in Turzent, the official language of the Empire, accompanied by a slight bow. "Welcome to Fountain Plains. We are humbly honored by your visit. My name is Urzatroi and I will be your host."

The female was Basti Warren recognized from his computer exploration of the various imperial races. Bastis were a serious lot and smiling wasn't a typical trait if he remembered correctly. That didn't mean they weren't friendly. They expressed warmth and welcoming differently was all. The race was very dark colored, covered with short, smooth hair, and petite. Ztar towered over the female who stood under five feet tall. The first impression was that this race evolved from cat-like creatures, at least from Warren's Earth perspective.

"We have arranged for a private viewing of the Plains and our tour will begin immediately, if you desire."

"Proceed," Ztar commanded in a very Emperor-like way.

It always fascinated Warren to watch the man that he knew in such a personal way act like a true Emperor. His whole demeanor changed and it was almost as if he became another person. The persona demanded respect, as did Ztar's stature at a full seven feet; at least a head taller than most Imperial species Warren had so far encountered. Warren thought back to the first time he saw Ztar and how intimidating he appeared. Ztar definitely gave the right first impression for being an Emperor.

With their guards surrounding them with very visible weapons in hand, Urzatrio lead them away from the shuttle pad. Their path to the attraction was cordoned off, likely under the direction of MI. As they strolled, Warren picked up on bits of conversation from the gathering crowd. "It's the Emperor! So that's what's going on." "Look, children, Emperor Ztar!"

Ztar constantly scanned the minds of the crowd that had gathered as close as the barriers and local authorities would allow. Surface probing for high-intensity emotions, such as trepidation, fear, and anger should pick up all but the most professional assassins, unless they were shielded. Yet Ztar could also detect shields – they formed a dead spot or black hole of psychic energy that experienced telepaths instantly recognized. Ztar allowed MI to worry about the pros that might elude his telepathy.

As they walked, Warren concluded they had likely set down at a landing pad for high-profile guests only as it turned out to be very near the entrance, likely not a place where the run of the mill tourists would disembark. 'The perks of being a big shot.' Within a few yards, they had cleared the buildings and crowd and stepped through a massive gateway. There before him was one of the most spectacular sights Warren had ever seen.

Sunlight and refractions danced and sparkled in rainbow flashes and shafts off slender crystalline formations that rose up from the ground in multi-faceted towers, cones, and cylinders in such a number as to almost resemble a crystal forest. Water spurted and sputtered out the top of nearly every formation and it was apparent how the feature came by its name. The crystal structures indeed looked like fountains standing from a foot or so to taller than Ztar by a several feet. From each structure, steam rose from its orifice like smoke from a chimney creating a mystical, primeval effect. The sound of gurgling, bubbling water filled the air. The scent of something acidic was much stronger.

Urzatroi stopped to allow her guests ample time to take in the scene. First time visits were nearly always awestruck by the fountains. She had been told that the Emperor had visited before, but Archangel had not. Therefore, she was to explain the geothermal processes that create the fountains. This tour would be the highlight of her career and an experience she could share with family and friends for years to come.

"Shall we proceed, my Emperor?" their guide asked and with Ztar's nod, she led the way onto a boardwalk system that reminded Warren of Yellowstone National Park's trail system around the geysers. "What you see is Gamas II's most unique geothermal feature. The Fountain Plains was so named when Gamas II was first colonized. Three ingredients come together to create the wonder before you. Heat, water, and minerals. Put those together in the right situation, and this…" she gestured with a wide swing of her arm, "is the result. That right situation is a rock fracture system."

Their guide moved them further out across the fountain bed and continued her monologue. "We are walking out onto the remains of a caldera where magma still pools hundreds of feet below. That supplies the heat. The second ingredient, water, seeps into the ground from rain and streams. That cold water is heated by the magma far beneath us."

They stopped in front of one particularly tall, cylindrical formation. It was dazzling as water bubbled and spat out the top of the clear structure and ran down its sides. Shafts of sunlight became rainbows as it passed through the prismatic crystal.

"Minerals are dissolved by the water to become a superheated solution. What is unique to this area is the blend minerals – rharith, cylicate, and narethoid. Together, those minerals create a clear, crystalline composite called rhallumitz. The superheated water containing the rhallumitz seeks an escape route through fissures in the rock and rises to the surface as water and steam. Once the water breaks the surface and starts instantly to cool, the rhallumitz begins to solidify into the formations you see. Over time, the formations grow taller as water continues to escape through the fissure."

Urzatroi paused to allow for the information to be digested before continuing. "The formation directly in front of us is one of the largest in the Plains, and one of the oldest. Scientists believe it started to form 2,300 standard years ago. The formations grow at an extremely slow rate and are incredibly strong. While they look fragile, it would take quite a bit of force to cause damage."

Warren couldn't help but be amazed. While the method of their formation was almost identical to the how the Mammoth Hot Springs in Yellowstone was created, the end result here was entirely different. 'This beats Mammoth hands down,' he opinioned to himself. "Magnificant!" Warren shared out loud.

"They are, aren't they?" Urzatroi replied. "Do you have any questions?"

Ztar smiled to himself. Archangel always had questions.

"Do any of the fountains erupt periodically or do they bubble constantly?" Warren wanted to know.

"To create a fountain formation, the water flow needs to be less forceful than an eruption. There are areas on the plains where water does erupt from fissures, but of course those don't result in fountains."

"And how long ago was the caldera formed?"

"We believe about 1 million standard years."

"Are there other places on Gamas II where fountains are found?"

"No, this is unique."

"Because of the mineral combination."

"That is correct. There are geothermal features similar to this elsewhere on GII, but none form fountains."

Ztar listened and watched with amusement as Warren continued to question their guide. The human had an almost insatiable curiosity. Their guide would earn her pay today!

###

Back at the shuttle, pilot Wheichen and co-pilot Lattim'de stood just inside the doorway of the shuttle passing the time with talk of family and mutual friends and people watching. As per security protocol, the pilots were to remain in the shuttle beneath the psychic dampening field. Having both served as royal court pilots for several years and worked together often, they'd formed a close friendship along the way. Wheichen was Turzent/Ozjaerian blend and Lattim'de was native Sat'rey.

"Ever see the fountains?" Wheichen asked of his co-pilot, watching the variety of peoples pass by just beyond the cordoning.

"Actually, no. The only time I've been on Gamas II, it's been piloting for the Emperor. Hence, always stuck here." Lattim'de gestured at the shuttle. "Would like to someday; bring the family and make a vacation of it."

The pilot nodded in understanding. "Likewise. Perhaps we should think about a joint trip. There's so much here for both our families to do. The children would love it," he said as the idea struck him.

A child's banti-ball bounced and rolled from out of the crowd, a child running behind it, but it escaped past the barrier ribbon and continued beneath the shuttle. "Mamba!" the child cried, just as the mother grab her scrambling offspring as he attempted to dive beneath the ribbon to go after his toy.

The situation caught the immediate attention of the guard standing to the rear of the shuttle. Seeing the situation, Lattim'de motioned to the guard, calling out "I've got it." Let the guard stay at his post. The co-pilot wouldn't even have to break protocol as the dampening field extended a few feet around the shuttle. Walking down the hatch ramp and kneeing on the ground, he stretched until he fingered the banti-ball to get it to roll to him. Then turning, he tossed it back toward the boy.

"There you go! Don't lose it again now," he called out with a smile. "Cute kid," he said to Wheichen getting to his feet.

"Looks about the age of my Engre. So much energy at that age."

"Like jaddyrroks!" the co-pilot compared with a laugh, referring to a small animal with a big reputation for its hyper-activity.

"The Emperor could be awhile yet, why don't we get some more of Archangel's coffee. He said to help ourselves. I'm really beginning to like it – has a nice energizing effect to it."

"Sounds good," Lattim'de agreed, brushing off his trousers as he headed inside the shuttle behind his friend.

Beneath the shuttle, the small device that had jumped from the banti-ball to the underside hull went into standby mode and no one was the wiser.

###

After answering a plethora of questions, the Basti turned to Ztar. "I will leave you now to enjoy the Fountains on your own."

Ztar smirked inside – she was tapped out. 'That's my Archangel.'

"Your knowledge is impressive, Urzatroi," Ztar complimented their host. "Thank you for such a detailed and informative tour."

Then with a slight bow, their guide headed back to the gateway, passing by the guards standing watch. Ztar and Warren continued to meander through the fountains on the walkway as their guards lingered slightly behind.

"I just can't get over how stunning this is," Warren remarked. "It's like being inside a sun-lit crystal!"

"That describes it well," the Emperor completely agreed.

As they strolled amongst the fountains, Warren decided to casually slip in his routine nag about being tested. "You know, Ztar, Fjai can easily scan you for the nannites. One quick peek and we'd know." Warren could almost see Ztar bristle.

"You are like an Alcab rueger-derr – relentless to the point of obsession once on the scent of prey," Ztar said with a disapproving look. "How long before no means no to you?"

Warren smiled devilishly. "Not anytime soon."

Ztar threw up his hands in a very human-like gesture. Something he picked up from Warren? It was a gesture Warren had used several times over the past many weeks in particular. For now, though, he dropped the subject.

A while later, Ztar telepathically signaled their escorts it was time to depart. Within a few minutes, they were at the shuttle where Urzatroi waited.

"Thank you again, Urzatroi."

"You have honored us today, my Emperor. Safe travels to both of you," she said with a bow.

One minute later, they were settled for the short hop to Fjai.

###

On the bridge of their commandeered ship, Officer Dityce paced. The waiting was excruciating. He played out the planned sequence of events in his mind to focus on something other than the wait.

Ground operatives would observe the Emperor and his companion board the Imperial shuttle and signal its departure to their shuttle waiting at an isolated location some distance from the Fountain Plains. Etagllot advanced technology would be used to cloak the shuttle from both suborbital and orbital tracking stations where MI and station staff would be watching the Imperial shuttle with extreme diligence. While complete cloaking of a craft was not yet possible for even the Etagllot, the craft would appear as a common GII atmospheric phenomenon that the sensitive tracking systems automatically discarded as background noise. The Imperial shuttle sensors would treat their approaching craft in the same manner.

It was in the time between leaving Gamas II and arriving at Fjai that Officer Dityce had found the crack in the security shield. No escort shuttle. Was it an oversight, over-confidence, or had the Etagllot imbedded an operative in MI that was assigned to Imperial security? Knowing Gtar-Cro and his thoroughness, Dityce leaned toward the latter. Dityce's security clearance would prevent him from ever knowing, but his curiosity was piqued. Gtar-Cro had two go-to people on his staff that acted as his seconds in matters directly associated with Ztar's safety. Second Majors Raminjen and Ajdra'de. The Gamas/Fjai trip had been assigned to Raminjen according to the intelligence reports. Was Raminjen Etagllot? Hard to imagine an Etagllot agent operating right under Gtar-Cro's nose, but he'd learned long ago to never under-estimate what the organization was capable of.

Returning to the plan, Dityce visualized the scenario. Once both shuttles were airborne, his operatives would close in on the Imperial craft very quickly. Everything needed to take place within atmosphere for the masking technology to be effective. When in range, his operatives would activate the device attached to the bottom of Ztar's shuttle canceling the psychic dampeners for the specific signature of the two powerful telepaths on the Etagllot shuttle, giving them a clear channel to operate. Working in unison, they would mindblast Ztar and Archangel first, the guards next, leaving the pilot and co-pilot conscious. Before the flight crew could sound an alarm, the telepaths would take control of their minds, turning them into puppets.

The Etagllot shuttle would then dock with the Imperial shuttle as it continued toward Fjai, snatch the Emperor, the human, and leave behind one of the telepaths posing as an Imperial messenger. Dityce cautioned to probe to determine which if any of the guards was assigned to remain on the Fjai with Ztar. That guard or guards would need to be taken in the Etagllot shuttle – if they returned to Gamas II on the Imperial shuttle, the ruse would immediately be discovered. The two telepaths would then place false memories into the minds of the pilot, co-pilot, and any guards still on Ztar's shuttle in preparation for docking at Fjai. The shuttles would separate and their craft would head into space. The small device beneath the shuttle would detach when the operative signaled it to do so.

Their cover story for Fjai – Ztar had a high-level emergency regarding the transition and he and the human would be delayed. Ztar was so concerned about the suddenness of his postponement, that he sent a personal messenger to express his regrets and assurances that they'd come as soon as could be managed. Etagllot operatives long established within the Fjai facility would deal with the MI agents aboard the orbital station. In an opposing story, the lead MI agent would be puppeted to confirm Ztar's safe arrival to their superiors on the ground.

Back at the Gamas II tracking stations, it would appear that Ztar and the human had arrived at Fjai in an uneventful shuttle flight to the orbital facility. The message from the Fjai agent of the Emperor's arrival would confirm that belief.

The telepath would command the pilots to depart immediately for Gamas II, leaving new false memories with the pilots and guards that they had safely deposited their Emperor and his companion at Fjai. A routine shuttle departure from the station would provide the telepath's escape.

It wasn't a plan for long-term deception. All Dityce really needed was an hour at best. Longer than that was all bonus. That time would allow his operatives to slip away and the shuttle with their captured prizes to rendezvous with his ship waiting in orbit around Gamas I's moon and for them to depart the star system.

Dityce was sweating. This would be either his greatest operation or his worst disaster.

###

The shuttle eased off the pad, rose to a safe height, and quickly darted into the sky with a direct route to Fjai.

"Lost your nerve yet?" Warren challenged Ztar in mock lightheartedness.

Ztar studied Archangel's face. It was filled with as much tension as the empathic connection. "No. And you?"

"Almost," Warren admitted. In fact, his stomach had a swarm of frenzied butterflies in it.

"Do you want to cancel?"

"No," he replied simply. This fear Warren was going to face down.

Ztar suddenly felt _something_. An odd otherness, like a mental ghost. He began to raise his mental shields but was a microsecond too late.

Warren caught Ztar's face – he had that far away look telepath's often display when something's grabbed their attention. "Ztar-" was all he got out. Then a blinding pain pierced his head and everything went black.

### --- ###

_As always, share your comments and observations – pretty please? I won't embarrass myself and tell you how many times during the day I stealthily check to see if anyone's posted a review or to see how many story visitors there have been… _


	3. Chapter 3

_Blessed are the great reviewers! You each make all the work of bringing this story to fruition worthwhile. Maybe I'm biased, but I truly believe I have the best readers on FanFiction. No generic reviews here! My heart sings every time I read a posting. _

_Chapter 3: Our twosome is in deep trouble and everyone's thrown into a tailspin. A few things start to tie together. Without further ado…_

**Chapter 3**

Xavier was alarmed. Hank had come to him with the deeply disturbing news that someone had performed a data dump from the mansion's computer.

"While I have not yet ascertained the full scope of the breach with apodictic certainty, Charles, I have determined the intrusion occurred several weeks ago, circumventing all our security measures with startling ease."

"How did you discover this now?"

"Quite by accident, regrettably. The breach left just enough ghost tracings to be detectable with the data recovery software I'm developing. If not for my test on our own systems this morning, we would likely never have uncovered the theft."

"Do we know what was taken?"

"Concerted effort was required, but yes, I believe I can answer that with a measure of confidence. Warren's medical history was the primary focus."

"Warren?" Now Charles was even more worried. "Everything?"

Hank's face reflected deep concern. "Everything, including the segmented files containing the data on Apocalypses' nannite technology."

"But those were ultra secure records! How is this possible?"

"Charles, whoever perpetrated this larceny used techniques I'm not sure exist on Earth."

That conclusion increased Charles' alarm. "This deeply concerns me, Hank. Whether it's the Turzent Empire or someone else, the consequences could be grave for Warren. Should someone be determined to acquire the nannite technology…" He did not have to complete the thought for his astute colleague.

Hank nodded. "I fear for our friend."

"I will send a comlink message to him immediately."

###

Many light-years away, Warren's PI chimed the tone indicating an urgent message from Earth as it lay wedged in a cranny out of view beneath a seat of the empty shuttle.

### --- ###

General Gtar-Cro was royal court and commander of Military Intelligence. As such, he was directly responsible for the safety of the Turzent Empire's ruler. Right now, the General wasn't sure he had heard his officer correctly regarding that very issue.

"Did you just tell me that you've lost the Emperor?!" Gtar-Cro asked while praying to his gods that he had misunderstood. The officer in front of him cringed ever so slightly as his robust superior loomed very close.

"That appears to be the situation, General, unless you tell me that the Emperor had plans that I was not made aware of."

The Turzent general thought his heart would stop. Ztar missing?! It was less than two hours ago he was told the Emperor and his companion had been deposited safely on the orbital research facility. This was his worst nightmare come true. Gtar-Cro was instantly flooded with both rage and intense fear for his sovereign and friend. Now, though, was not the time for unconstrained emotions. He needed information and he needed it quickly.

"And Archangel?"

"Also unaccounted for. We're getting conflicting stories from Fjai and the Emperor's flight crew. Fjai claims an imperial messenger explained the Emperor was delayed due to an emergency. The shuttle crew swears they delivered the Emperor and Archangel safely to Fjai."

"Go to high-alert immediately."

"Already done, General. Fjai is in lockdown. All system traffic has been halted, but numerous ships have come and gone in the interim. Imperial forces are on intercept courses with those ships as we speak."

Gtar-Cro leaned even closer to his officer in a pose he hoped communicated his barely controlled rage. "Second Major Raminjen, listen to me very carefully. I want every detail, every suspicion, every last piece of minutiae you have and even what you don't have and I want it now. And nothing of this is to make it to the comnet. Understood?"

Raminjen nodded and swallowed hard. This was potentially a career-ending day or worse. He would need to maneuver very carefully to make it through this crisis. Leaving Gtar-Cro's presence, he headed back to his staff to begin the investigation in earnest and double-check his private preparations should his situation become dire.

###

"Review the tracking again! That is the only time they could have been taken." Gtar-Cro was livid. He was being told that Ztar and Archangel boarded the shuttle on Gamas II and were not on the shuttle when it arrived at Fjai. Like magic they had somehow gone missing in between. Nothing showed on tracking, no other ships came even close to their shuttle, but yet somehow they disappeared.

"General, sir. We've reviewed tracking six times already. We've removed every layer of auto-filtering one at a time. There is nothing to find," the technician was getting annoyed – he didn't care who General Gtar-Cro was. There was simply nothing on the scan playbacks. The Emperor's shuttle lifted off, went directly to Fjai, and docked. No deviations, no slowdowns, no unusual movements. Nothing. "Perhaps they never boarded the shuttle."

The clock was ticking and the General's patience was wearing exceedingly thin. It was now five hours since the disappearance. There was absolutely no doubt that Ztar and Archangel had entered the shuttle. MI telepaths unraveled the false memories implanted in the minds of the pilot, co-pilot, and guards, but any real memories could not be recovered that shed light on when and how the Emperor and his companion were taken. Whoever had pulled this off was using powerful telepaths.

A female technician who had just started her shift at another workstation, turned toward Gtar-Cro. "Sir, if I may make a suggestion?"

Gtar-Cro eyed the female. She looked very young and likely had little experience. It almost annoyed him that she felt the need to speak, but he was desperate.

"Go ahead," he said without enthusiasm.

"Sir, the tracking system is quite complex, as you know. It performs several real-time scrubbing functions as the data is collected and before that data saved to be further filtered. Perhaps a review of the raw data would be helpful."

The older technician swung around in his chair. "There is no raw data to review, Kzarna. When we upgraded to the new system five years ago, saving raw scan data became unnecessary. You're forgetting that," he said harshly as if to embarrass.

"I think you are mistaken, Voit. Subsequent to the installation, the old system became a failsafe. It continues to run behind the new system collecting unfiltered data. That data is kept for one cycle. I believe the incident falls within that timeframe, but it needs to be retrieved soon or it will be overwritten."

Voit sank in his chair. He had forgotten about the outdated failsafe they had never used and never discussed once in five years. Now he was looking like an incompetent. Damn Kzarna!

The young technician had the General's full attention now. "We need that raw data now."

Kzarna started working her control panel to bring up the interface with the old tracking system, hoping she remembered how. "The raw data will show us signals the new system discards as baseline background noise," she offered as she successfully brought up the interface display. Memory had not failed her.

"And should anything anomalous have approached our shuttle…"

"It could be a masked ship. I've heard of work being done on various cloaking technologies," Kzarna shared as she triggered the raw scan data playback. General Gtar-Cro was now hovering over her shoulder to view the replay. "Quite impressive research, actually, considering how sophisticated our tracking systems are."

"I'm not sure what you're referring to, technician, but that would be highly classified research in any case," Gtar-Cro cocked his head and looked down at the woman.

Kzarna smiled. "It may be classified, General, but it's not a secret."

The General knew that of course, but he had wanted to see how the young technician responded to the confronting question. He continued to be impressed.

Kzarna manipulating various filters to discard apparent benign noise – things her training told her were insects, dust, clouds, etc. Layer after layer of filtering was applied and removed. Then after watching the replay for what seemed like the twentieth time, something caught her attention. The system labeled it as a known benign Gamas II atmospheric phenomenon, but its movements were odd.

"Watch this signal here, General. See how it is moving toward our shuttle?"

"I do indeed."

As they watched, the atmospheric anomaly seemed to merge with the Emperor's shuttle signal and remained merged as the shuttle continued its ascent. Then after a couple minutes, the signals parted once again, the anomaly moved away toward space as would be in keeping with the known phenomenon.

"Technician Kzarna, I think we have our answer," Gtar-Cro was immensely pleased with their finding, but now even more worried. Whoever took the Emperor was apparently using advanced cloaking technology – something even MI didn't possess in a highly developed state. Who were they dealing with? With very few known organizations having those kinds of resources, Gtar-Cro's list narrowed dramatically. They likely had the how, next they needed to follow the trail to wherever it led.

### --- ###

The family had gathered to celebrate his coming home for the first time in too long. Everyone was there – his siblings and their mates and children, various extended family, and old friends. Voices rang out in laughter and storytelling and sharing of news in a joyous raucous. Sukja was a bit worried how his return may be received since he'd been gone so long, but now all those concerns and hesitations were dispelled. He was home and it felt like he'd never left.

Then his PI chimed – it was General Gtar-Cro's office. Sukja's heart lurched. The General knew what Sukja's trip was about and he would never intrude on his time with family unless it was of highest urgency. Excusing himself, he ducked into an unoccupied room of his sister's house and closed the door.

"Yes, General," he said with trepidation.

"Sukja, I have some disturbing news. Are you alone?" The General's face was filled with stress.

"Yes."

"Good. I will tell you what we know at this time."

The commander of Military Intelligence proceeded to give Sukja the worst news he'd received in his adult life.

### --- ###

Xavier was concerned. Warren hadn't returned his urgent messages. Meanwhile, Hank McCoy suggested using his new data recovery system to search for other security breaches. Hank was now seated in front of Charles once again and his face showing concern. "Our fears were justified. The databanks were breached before."

Charles jumped in. "Let me guess – during the negotiations with the Turzents."

"Yes, if my detection program chronometric is correct. Tracings indicate the files were scanned specifically for all information about Warren, not just medical information, as well as broad-spectrum intel on the X men."

"And why wouldn't they? The Turzents were bargaining away control of Earth for Warren. Likely, they wanted to know as much about him as possible. The nannite data?"

"Those segmented files may have been read five years ago, but I cannot say that with certitude. One aspect of my program indicates the affirmative while another found no discernable tracings." Then Hank brought his hands together in a steeple. "There was a third indubitable usurpation shortly after the Turzents supposedly left our star system. I believe a significant portion of our database was replicated at that time."

Xavier sighed deeply as he pieced together what was becoming increasingly apparent. "Actually, I am not surprised. In fact, if I were the Turzents, I would gather data from many sources while here, adding that knowledge base to my own. Although Earth is less technologically advanced, who knows what you may learn."

Hank nodded in complete agreement. "In hindsight, we were naïve to not have considered the probability of intellectual larceny by the Turzents. I have already advised others who should know."

"Any indications of particular interest in Warren's medical files during the third episode?" Charles asked.

"No. All indicators point a mass data upload, as best as my algorithms can ascertain."

"I will continue trying to reach Warren, but my concern grows by the hour. It isn't like him to ignore urgent messages."

McCoy's eyes locked on Xavier's. "Can you send a communiqué to Emperor Ztar inquiring as to Warren's whereabouts?"

"Unfortunately, no. The comlink's built-in security measures allow only messages to Warren."

Hank considered for a moment. "Alternatives come to mind. SHIELD perhaps? Or Stark or Richards?"

Charles nodded. "I've considered that. If I hear nothing soon, I may contact them. A broadcast to the Turzents could raise suspicions that we as yet don't know the consequences of. Warren could be away from communications for a simple reason. I don't want to raise suspicions for a single day without word. I'll wait until tomorrow before sounding any alarms."

### --- ###

Day two of the kidnapping and they had little. Who had taken Ztar? When would the claim of responsibility come? Few adversaries had the wherewithal to pull off an operation of this magnitude. Was it the Commonwealth? A terrorist group? That just didn't feel right – Gtar-Cro's instincts were telling him they were missing something.

Meanwhile, he was grateful that the news of the incident hadn't yet gotten out. As far as the Empire was concerned, Ztar was meeting with his Court unexpectedly concerning Imperial security. Let the comnet news wonder all it wanted about what may have precipitated an emergency conference. Those on the research station and elsewhere that were privy to actual events were in protective custody and isolated from all outside communications. 'Oh for the good old days when memory wipes could be imposed,' he thought wistfully. Under the new constitutional rights, that was no longer an option, legally that is.

He was also grateful in an odd way for the recent up tick in terrorist incidents – it provided an excellent cover for the massive investigation. He was able to unleash the resources at his disposal with less concern for how people would interpret the activity.

"General Gtar-Cro," a uniformed officer spoke jarring Gtar-Cro from his contemplations.

"Second Major Raminjen sent me with this PI recovered from the Emperor's shuttle. It belongs to the human. I'm to inform you there are urgent messages from Earth that hadn't yet been viewed by Archangel."

Gtar-Cro snatched the PI from the officer's hand. Urgent messages from Earth? The timing piqued his interest and nudged his instincts.

"I'm getting this first now why?" Gtar-Cro was once again upset with his underlings. This should have been brought to him within minutes of the shuttle being searched, not a day after the kidnapping.

"My apologies, General, I have no further information. I brought the unit as soon as commanded."

"Did the Second Major indicate whether or not he has read those messages?" Gtar-Cro queried with a harsh look.

"He did not share that with me."

The officer standing at attention nearly squirmed under Gtar-Cro's scrutiny even though his irritation was directed elsewhere. Raminjen was on the General's watch list. This disaster was sloppy security work from start to finish. First Gtar-Cro had learned that the Second Major had not assigned a shuttle to escort the Emperor's craft to Fjai and now this. "Dismissed," he ordered coldly.

Docking the PI in a unit designed to blast through all but the most sophisticated security measures, Gtar-Cro broke into Archangel's private messages. Two urgent missives came up from a name Gtar-Cro recognized from various reports on the Earth System – Charles Xavier, a very powerful human telepath and Archangel's commander. Xavier led an organization of warriors called the X-men who were self-charged with protecting humans from threats most usually associated with a subrace of humans referred to as mutants or homo superior. Xavier's group was of the subrace, but apparently at cross-purposes with many of their fellow mutants. Gtar-Cro found the whole situation fascinating.

The face that appeared on the screen was filled with concern – even a non-human could see it. "Warren, when you receive this message, please respond immediately. There is an urgent matter I need to discuss with you." That ended the first message.

"Warren, I grow concerned that I have not heard from you," the second message began. Xavier's expression was that of even deeper worry. "We have uncovered a situation that may indicate a threat to your safety. Please contact me immediately. In the meantime, I pray you are well."

"Damn the gods!" What had Xavier discovered half way across the Empire? This was too coincidental.

Gtar-Cro strode out of his command center and directly to central communications. He handed the PI to the nearest comm tech.

"Use this PI to respond to the last stored message. I want Charles Xavier of Earth System on the military comm in my office immediately." He returned to his office to await the comlink call, trusting the worried human had his comlink close by.

###

Light years away, Charles' heart skipped when his comlink chirped. 'At last!' he thought, activating the viewscreen in anticipation. His heart skipped for another reason when the face he saw was a stranger's. Through the built-in translator, a female explained that a General Gtar-Cro wished to speak with him. Charles's heart began to pound. He knew the name as being a member of Ztar's royal court. What had happened? Where was Warren? Why was the Turzent equivalent of the CIA involved?

The next face he saw was that of a true Turzent, one of Ztar's species, who immediately gave the impression of an individual accustomed to being in command.

"You are Charles Xavier of the Earth System and friend of Archangel, correct?"

"Yes, General, that I am. Where is Warren? What has happened?"

Gtar-Cro paused for a moment at the name Warren. He had never heard the human referred to as anything other than Archangel and had nearly forgotten that small bit from the intelligence report that provided his birth name. "I need you a few answers first," the General sidestepped.

"No, General. First you will tell me what has become of my friend. Then I will consider answering your questions." Charles was firm.

Gtar-Cro hesitated. He was not accustomed to blunt defiance. For expediency, he would acquiesce to the demand to gain whatever information Xavier may have.

"In deference to your friendship with Archangel, I will answer your questions first, but with the understanding that you will answer mine in return."

"Agreed," Xavier contracted.

"Archangel and the Emperor have been taken by as yet unknown persons 18 standard hours ago. They were abducted from their shuttle en route from Gamas II to the Fjai orbital station using a cloaked craft. There is little else we know at this juncture, including why. The abduction could be connected to recent terrorist activity or something altogether different."

Charles's chest tightened. Warren was kidnapped once before. For another abduction to take place within several months was too much to accept as coincidence. "At this point you don't know who is behind this, you don't know where they are being held, nor do you know the reason."

Gtar-Cro nearly cringed at the words – they drove home the harsh reality that they had learned little of consequence in 16 hours of intense investigation. "That is correct. Whoever is responsible left no direct trail to pursue. My operatives are following every indirect lead we discover."

"Do you believe this to be a terrorist kidnapping?" Charles pressed.

Gtar-Cro gestured to indicate the affirmative. "That is the logical assumption given current circumstances and recent incidents."

Charles was reading something between the lines. "What are your _instincts_ telling you is the reason for the kidnapping?"

Gtar-Cro considered the direction of the conversation. He would not allow the human to interrogate him much longer. Xavier would be the one providing answers very shortly.

"My instincts tell me there is much more going on than we can deduce at the moment. However, you contacted Archangel with great concern for his safety. Perhaps you have information that could point the way."

Charles had been studying the General. He was a good reader body language, but this man was not human and he could not assume the expressions and body movements carried the same meanings as they did in humans. Should he trust the Turzent? Yet what choice did he have? Charles could do little from Earth, and at this moment, he needed to rely on someone else to help Warren.

Gtar-Cro watched the human carefully as he obviously considered whether to reveal what he knew. It came down to trusting a stranger with the welfare of his long-time associate. Gtar-Cro remained silent, giving Xavier the time he needed to decide. Nothing Gtar-Cro could say would likely make a difference in that decision and would only come across as self-serving. He waited.

Charles decided. "What we have learned is perhaps completely unrelated. We uncovered a breach in our data records. Someone apparently copied Warren's medical history. This was the third such breach of our secure files. General, our data is protected by the most secure systems available to human technology and augmented with Shi'ar techniques. It would take highly advanced technology to break in."

"When did this occur?"

"Approximately three Earth months ago. That was the third data theft." Charles would make it clear how he viewed the data acquisition.

The timing grabbed Gtar-Cro's attention. A breach just weeks ago – coincidence? "You said this was the third breach. When were the others?"

"The second was five-plus years ago following your declared departure from our star system immediately after the signing of the Accord." Charles hoped the inference wasn't lost on the Turzent.

Gtar-Cro heard the accusation. It was irrelevant – Earth was part of the Empire and they had every right to be there. They had not violated the Accord with their presence or with the data mining. The Accord said Earth would be autonomous and there would be no interference in Earth affairs nor would there be a Turzent presence on the planet. The Accord purposefully did not forbid imperial presence within the star system nor did it declare Earth's knowledge base off limits. Gtar-Cro chose to ignore the larger accusation, but he would address the data mining honestly.

"The data retrieval after the Accord signing could very well have been our people. We routinely add knowledge bases from worlds entering the Empire. However, whether or not _your_ files were copied at that time by our technicians, I cannot confirm. It seems reasonable to assume that was the case. However, the more recent breach seems out of place. We've long ago completed the data retrieval. I know of no authorized imperial presence in Earth system for at least three years. The first breach, when did that occur?"

"While the Accord was being written," Charles replied with an accusatory tone.

"That incident would be our standard review conducted on all of the Emperor's companions. What we learned of Archangel went no further than my office. Information gathered on Imperial companions is strictly for security purposes and highly confidential for obvious reasons."

Charles had a difficult time believing that the sensitive data the Turzents would have collected about the X men and Archangel during the negotiations would not have found its way beyond the General's office, but Xavier would not press the issue.

"I will accept your word on that for now, General. The newest breach is of most concern considering the timing."

Gtar-Cro agreed on that point. "Anything other than Archangel's medical records taken?"

"Not that we can ascertain, hence our concern. Someone is specifically interested in Warren."

"And why do you believe someone would have interest in Archangel's medical files?"

Charles contemplated. Hank wasn't completely certain the first breach included the segregated files that included the detailed nannite data. How much did the Turzents really know? How much should Charles share? Yet if the nannite technology was somehow connected with the kidnapping, he should tell Gtar-Cro in hopes that it would point his investigation in the right direction. The recent theft of the medical records definitely included the nannite files. Bottom-line, the secret was no longer a secret.

Charles went on to explain about Apocalypse and the nannites with enough emphasis on allure of the biotechnology that Gtar-Cro would fully understand Xavier's concern.

"You are telling me Archangel hosts technology so advanced that even the Shi'ar scientists were unable to rid him of it or to unravel how it works?" Gtar-Cro was stunned. Nothing he'd read in Archangel's files indicated that the human housed anything more than standard biotech. Given the X-men's strong ties to the Shi'ar, that hadn't sounded any alarms at the time. Biotechnology of that nature is not uncommon in the advanced medical care, including Turzent medicine.

"You understand correctly, General." Charles nodded. 'Either the Turzents didn't know of the nannites, or Gtar-Cro is feigning ignorance for some reason,' he considered.

"This opens up new possibilities," Gtar-Cro acknowledged while his heart lurched. Highly advanced cloaking devices, powerful telepaths, Archangel filled with super-technology – it all smelled of one organization's modus operandi. Etagllot. Was Archangel the true target? Had the Etagllot resurrected itself under their noses? And how had they, or anyone, come to know what was within the human? An even more dire thought quickly followed. If it was the Etagllot who had Ztar, the one who had orchestrated their near annihilation all those years ago… 'Damn the gods!' he cursed to himself as he clenched his hands.

"Xavier, were you aware of Archangel's trip to Fjai Medical Research Facility?"

'Medical facility?' Charles was surprised. "Is Warren ill?"

"No. He was asked to participate in a research program hoping to find a cure for the Wynnar-Qxani virus."

Charles knew Warren had nearly died from the alien virus and something had cured him. Warren had shared that he was uncertain whether the nannites had saved him or something else, but he had not shared that he was going to participate in a research program. Warren hated labs. He also held the nannite technology sacrosanct. This Fjai research facility must have presented a very compelling argument to convince Warren to be part of their program. Or it was another sign of Ztar's control over his friend.

"Did the kidnapping occur on his way to that facility?" Charles concluded.

"Yes."

"Any indications that Fjai is involved?"

"None that we've found," the General replied finding himself once again on the answering side of the conversation. "Are you aware of anyone who would like to obtain the nannite technology, such as the Shi'ar?"

"The Shi'ar had their opportunity long ago and were unable to do so because the nannites do not survive outside of Warren's body, yet it is not an impossibility," he had to admit.

"Anyone else?" The General pressed.

"Very few are aware of the nannites, General. Until now that is." Charles allowed himself to feel ire toward the race of the man that had taken his friend, abused him for four-plus years, and now perhaps put him in further jeopardy whether intentionally or not.

The General saw the change in the human's eyes and facial expression and he read it as anger. Gtar-Cro had to remind himself of Xavier's perspective of the Turzent Empire. Xavier likely thought as little of the Emperor and his people as he did of Archangel's current kidnappers.

"Xavier, you have my word that we will do whatever is necessary to safely return Archangel."

"As a by-product of saving your Emperor no doubt." Charles knew he shouldn't say it, but he did. The Turzents were not friends.

Gtar-Cro wasn't offended by the truth. Archangel was his second priority. "Naturally, the Emperor comes first. But also know I understand how much Archangel means to Emperor Ztar and if I should retrieve the Emperor and fail in saving Archangel, I will have failed my Emperor. I will not fail him."

Charles accepted that – it was logical. Ztar was obsessed with Warren and because of that Charles believed the General would indeed experience difficulty if Warren was lost to Ztar.

"I choose to believe in your intent to bring Warren safely back to us," Charles extended, purposefully adding 'to us.' He hoped when Warren was back and safe the incident would propel him to return to Earth and extricate himself from the influence of the Turzent ruler. "Therefore, I will place my faith in you and not request assistance from outside your Empire." Charles knew Gtar-Cro would understand the inference, yet he wasn't all that convinced he could persuade any of their alien allies to assist.

Gtar-Cro sighed internally. He knew the human had powerful friends both in the Shi'ar Empress and others far beyond their remote corner of the galaxy. He could do without outside interference.

"There is something you can do for me if you would, Charles Xavier."

"What might that be?"

"Check for other missing humans. Mutants specifically. Perhaps go back as far as the first data mining." Even as Gtar-Cro spoke, he was forming a picture of possible events in his mind. A world full of naturally occurring mutants…the Etagllot involvement in the Turzent augmentation program many years ago to create mutations by altering DNA…the Etagllot's past modus operandi of taking unwilling research subjects.

Charles was suddenly very concerned. Missing mutants? Where Xavier thoughts raced to was not comforting. "May I ask why?"

"Not at the moment. It is a hypothesis without foundation. Should you find anything, we'll talk further. For now, I ask that you trust me and report your findings. You can reach me directly via your comlink. Archangel's PI will remain in my possession until his return."

"I will do as you ask, but should I discover anything, I will expect a full explanation of your hypothesis."

"I accept your terms. Comm me as soon as you have completed your investigation." Gtar-Cro ended the link with a sinking feeling. The entire situation suddenly took on an even more ominous character, if that was even possible. Should the Etagllot be responsible and not some anti-government group, they were up against a formidable opponent. Earlier, he had contemplated Commonwealth involvement given the sophistication of the kidnapping, but now… Could their worst fears have become reality? Could the Etagllot have risen again and infiltrated the Empire? If so, they faced an internal war when the Empire was most vulnerable – in the midst of its transition.

The timing? Too coincidental in Gtar-Cro's estimation. With so many resources dedicated to maintaining stability and advancing the new form of government, it would be the perfect environment for the Etagllot to reassert itself. And if they had indeed built a strong base in the Par-Sen government or even the Commonwealth, then their resources could be deep.

Another thought crossed the General's mind. Archangel was the victim of two kidnappings in several months. What were the odds? Did they need to re-examine the first incident? Yet absolutely no evidence was found to suggest anything other than anti-transition motives. Further investigations would be severely hampered as all the terrorists had been put to death.

Gtar-Cro decided to focus on the current kidnapping and later reconsider the first incident. He left his office feeling the urgency and weight of the current crisis. Every moment that the Emperor remained in the hands of his kidnappers, the greater the chances he would not survive. Both dread and determination filled the General as he headed to central command when another sickening possibility formed in his mind.

### --- ###

When word came to Jharda that Ztar and Archangel were missing, her world froze in time. First came disbelief and denial, then fear and rage – all in the matter of hours. How? Who? Where? Gtar-Cro had no answers. The pain went to her soul.

There was no time for self-indulgence of unchecked emotions. Though still on medical leave, her comm was alive with activity. The news was held very tight to the chest and all agreed it needed to remain out of the media for as long as possible. Their cover story – Ztar was holding a high-level conference in an undisclosed location and indeterminate duration regarding recent events and the transition. Any questions regarding the ramped up investigative activity would be attributed to efforts to quell any further incidents like Mon Genesis. No one believed the deception would hold for more than a few days, but it would gain them time.

To further the deception, Gtar-Cro instructed Jharda and Legal Advisor Stjarmas'de to remain cloistered until he signaled otherwise. Sukja was to stay put on Ozjaer with family and continue his "vacation." If anyone started to speculate, it would appear that Ztar and some of his Court were together. Finance Minister Yramma e'Troz was to remain at his post with orders to limit his schedule to minimize exposure to probing questions. Using the ultra-secure military comlink network, Gtar-Cro's staff kept the isolated Court members up to date.

With each hour that passed, Jharda's dread grew. The waiting was excruciating. Never in her life had she felt so helplessness. Her emperor, her friend, her former lover was at the mercy of people who meant him harm. What was happening to him? What was he feeling? Was he fighting back? Was he in pain? The horrifying imaginings were too agonizing to dwell on, yet they plagued her whether awake or in her dreams.

Life advanced in jerks and yanks from one comm to another, as she and her second in command remained in constant contact and monitored for any news leaks. Anything resembling speculation on where and why the Emperor was out of sight would be dealt with immediately. Thankfully, Ztar was a media-shy Emperor and his sudden disappearance seemed to go unquestioned. For now. How long that would be the case was anyone's guess.

### --- ###

Officer Dityce was still shocked they'd actually pulled it off as he turned over the unconscious pair to the Ymoz researchers. He'd given their chances of success rather low odds. In fact, he'd gone so far as to make sure his personal life was in order. Perhaps it was his imagination, but it felt as if the whole of the Etagllot organization sighed in collective relief when he commed they had entered untraceable FTL.

Off-loading the captives was another huge relief. Having the powerful Turzent on board, even in an induced comatose state, made him nervous. With the delivery, he had done his part and maintaining security and secrecy from this point rested on other's shoulders.

He remained in the dark as to why they needed the Emperor and the human, but he prayed the enormous risk was worth it. Whatever the reason, it had to be undeniable; otherwise, the monumental gamble was pure insanity. He sighed. 'Likely, I'll never know why we've risked everything,' he resigned himself.

"Sir?" the crewmember interrupted, standing in the doorway of the ship's ready room. "The Director wishes to speak with you."

'Next mission?' he wondered as he punched the comm button in the table controls.

### --- ###

The General was beyond frustrated as he sat in his office the third day after the impossible happened. Every resource available to military intelligence, the regular military, and beyond focused on the singular mission – find the Emperor. Despite all those vast resources, they had thus far come up empty handed.

Evidence mounted that the kidnapping was an Etagllot operation, especially since no terrorist group had claimed responsibility. Of all the groups that would like nothing more than to see Ztar dead, the Etagllot sat near the top of the list. But as any good investigator would, he eliminated no other reasonable possibilities.

Two known terrorist organizations with Commonwealth ties remained in the running. With Commonwealth resources, the impossible kidnapping could be possible. He knew their scientists were working on cloaking technology as were Imperial researchers, yet he'd seen no intelligence that the Commonwealth had reached the level of development to explain the cloaked shuttle.

Yet Gtar-Cro's instincts said it was their old enemy the Etagllot. And with the Par-Sen themselves admitting the Etagllot were entrenched in their system, the pool of resources available to the organization could be deep. If anyone could develop effective cloaking technology, it was the Etagllot.

Even more frightening was the potential of Military Development involvement. Gtar-Cro had physically cringed when he remembered the paragraph in the Accord. Had they tired of waiting? Were they working with the Etagllot once again? Now he found himself facing an investigation of their own military in addition to everything else. "By the gods!" he verbalized aloud to his empty office. "It's 15 years ago all over again."

His exhausted mind drifted to thoughts of what could be happening to his long-time commander and his companion and it sickened him. Were they being tortured? Used as test subjects in the Etagllot's immoral experiments? Alive or…?

The General shook himself. He needed to focus on the task at hand and not get caught up in unproductive wonderings. He hadn't slept since Ztar's disappearance and it was taking its toll. A semi-conscious leader of military intelligence isn't what would serve his emperor best – he needed to be at his peak mentally and physically. Tonight, whether he wanted to or not, Gtar-Cro needed to get at least a few hours of sleep.

First, though, he would review the reports filling his PI yet again. Perhaps he'd missed something earlier, a small clue that could lead to where the Emperor had been taken. As yet, everyone including himself had come up empty and he had a hard time accepting that as reality. The galaxy, though, is a very large place when you are searching for two singular beings.

He started with the traffic control report for the time of the actual kidnapping. They knew a cloaked shuttle had docked with the Emperor's craft en route to Fjai and then headed out into space beyond Gamas II. They had also learned that a shuttle scheduled to depart Gamas II at the time of incident had reported ident problems. That had turned out to be the suspect shuttle emerging from cloak. If the craft had not done so, tracking would have flagged the anomalous reading. The cloak signal mimicked an atmospheric phenomenon that did not exist in space. He reread the report on what investigators learned in questioning Gamas II tracking station personnel.

At the time, Gamas II civil tracking was expecting a small cargo shuttle to lift off from a private pad to dock with a freighter near Gamas I. When questioned by traffic why their shuttle ident didn't appear until nearly out of atmosphere, the shuttle pilot apologized profusely saying they experienced a glitch in that system, but his co-pilot who also happened to be a shuttle technician quickly repaired the problem. Wasn't that fortunate? He was a good man to have in the next chair, the pilot had complimented. The traffic control tech agreed – very fortunate indeed!

The technician was apparently so busy juggling all the traffic being routed around the no-fly zone surrounding the Imperial shuttle that it failed to register the shuttle hadn't shown at all on tracking until their ident was repaired. Gamas II tracking released the shuttle to Gamas I a few minutes later.

Gamas I traffic picked up the shuttle at the halfway point between the two planets as the craft swung around their moon and docked with a freighter registered as the Eciff. All seemed in perfect order as the Eciff had informed traffic that they awaited a small cargo load from Gamas II. The Eciff was a regular visitor to the Gamas system and had followed most of her normal pattern during the brief stopover. Traffic never questioned the small change in routine. "No off-load cargo this trip," the captain apologized. "Next time, though, we'll have a full cargo bay for the good people of Gamas system," he had offered as a consolation prize.

Within moments of taking on the cargo shuttle, Eciff requested initiation of its scheduled departure, which was granted immediately. Traffic monitored the ship as it moved past Gamas system occupied planets and then jumped to FTL when cleared to do so. Nothing unusual – nothing to raise any warning flags; all perfectly routine.

Now they knew that as soon as the Eciff went to FTL, her ident and other beacons went silent. As nearly everyone knew, if a ship in FTL mode went into silent running, it became untraceable. If you knew where to scan, you could find it, but you had to know where to look. It is a very big galaxy and a ship that wants to disappear can do so completely in a matter of minutes. That is exactly what happened with the Eciff. She never arrived at her next destination, which was to be yesterday at Rius Station.

Yet despite everything they had learned, they were no closer to finding the Emperor and his companion. Where had they been taken?! Were the two even still together? Three days missing. Three days for the Eciff to have traveled a significant distance across Turzent space, and depending on the ship's course, even out of Turzent territory. With no trail to trace from the ship, the investigation had to look elsewhere for clues.

If this was indeed an Etagllot and/or MD kidnapping, based on what they had learned recently from Xavier, the probable target was Archangel, with Ztar as perhaps a bonus catch. MI searched for any intel that may point to possible illicit research sites. Any unusual medical equipment and supply purchases or movements legal or otherwise, other disappearances that had similar characteristics, underground scuttlebutt of any sort, any hints or clues from previous intel reports regarding the on-going Etagllot investigation that now took on new meaning – these were just a few of the multitude of places to look.

In the hours since he talked with Xavier, Gtar-Cro had begun the investigation into Military Development. It was far too early for results from that probe. Rehsaw and his top aides had already volunteered and submitted to intense telepathic probing and cleared of any involvement. Thus, Rehsaw and Gtar-Cro would conduct a joint inquiry. If they discovered that military development was involved, there was no telling where else it may lead. Worse case, Gtar-Cro could imagine it resulting in destabilization of their fledging imperiocratic government.

Gtar-Cro's people were working with their Par-Sen cooperators as well to find any clues from their territory. It was possible the kidnappers took their victims there given the known ties between segments of the Par-Sen government and the Etagllot.

Putting Etagllot and MD aside, the next logical set of suspects were organizations that opposed the transition or were attempting complete independence from the Empire. That would mean the Emperor was the probable target and Archangel the bonus item. He reread the various intelligence reports covering the long list of terror and opposition groups. Yet organizations with the capabilities to pull off this kind of operation were few.

Next he moved to what they had on their largest interstellar neighbor, The Systems Commonwealth. MI knew their scientists were working on cloaking technology; perhaps this was an opportunity to put that technology to the test. Gtar-Cro saw flaws in the cloaking used at Gamas II. Whoever designed it had to know that once the ruse was uncovered, the cloaking signal became useless – tracking technology would simply be modified. It made more sense that this was either a test of evolving technology or old cloaking technology used for a one-time deception.

That second possibility was most troubling, but rumination on cloaking technology was not where he needed to focus. He pulled his mind back on task. Assuming Commonwealth involvement was tempting, but the question would be why? What would that regime gain by kidnapping the Emperor? It was hard to imagine any reason compelling enough to risk a second war so soon after the last. Yet if the Etagllot was entangled in Commonwealth policy, all bets were off.

Those responsible for the Mon Genesis bombing also rose to the top. That incident tipped their hand revealing a level of sophistication not previously assigned to the Mennisa Freedom Fighters. The group had strong ties to the Commonwealth as Mennisa was part of the Commonwealth until the peace treaty. Then Mennisa was forfeited to the Empire as new territorial boundaries were imposed.

The words on his PI blurred and thoughts drifted again from reports to his commander and friend. Ztar had changed much over the past five years, particularly the last two. In the past, Gtar-Cro felt Ztar believed he hid his deep-seated anger well, and most of the time Ztar was right. Yet Gtar-Cro knew the man struggled with the personal side of his life – more specifically, the intimate side. While he was not privy to the specifics of the problem, everyone who cared to do so could that much together. A man doesn't go through bedmates at the rate Ztar had and not have problems. Ztar had been looking for something and not finding it.

Then along came Archangel and Ztar changed; slowly, steadily, without Gtar-Cro seeing it at first. Once he did, he had watched in silent fascination as the Turzent matured. Archangel was good for the Emperor and Gtar-Cro was happy for him. It was a very rocky road, though. An unwilling bedmate who had every reason to hate the Emperor, but somehow that had changed, too. Archangel's heart softened to Ztar. Why, Gtar-Cro could not begin to imagine, but it really didn't matter. In the end, Ztar had fallen in love. While Gtar-Cro didn't know with certainty, it looked as if the human had also. At a minimum, Archangel cared for the Emperor; that was clear to any observer. And to think it all started five years ago with the harsh document called the Turzent/Earth Accord.

Recently, Ztar had asked him to look into any foul play concerning a single clause in that document. Ztar wanted to know why military development wanted Archangel as early as when the Accord was being drafted. The investigation had only just begun and the assigned operative had reported little back.

Instinct suddenly nudged him. Perhaps that's where they needed to look – all the way back the events of five years ago. Perhaps the answers they sought lie there. Gtar-Cro activated his comm.

### --- ###

Distant voices murmuring undistinguishable words. 'What?' his brain sluggishly questioned. More sounds entered his consciousness. He felt distant and detached. 'Dreaming?' Footsteps, muted voices. 'Who's there?' Oblivion kept tugging, wanting him back. He let it have him.

Voices beyond the veil of blackness. Odd sounds with no source. 'Someone there?' Warren struggled to focus as awareness rose tentatively. 'Wake up,' he ordered himself, attempting to shake off the murkiness. His eyes refused to open no matter how hard he tried. Arms and legs ignored his commands and remained stubbornly where they were. He was lying on something soft. 'A bed?' He felt weighted down from head to toe. 'What's wrong?' Surprisingly, he found himself not all that concerned about his situation. 'Interesting,' he noted in detached curiosity.

As he lay there, other sounds caught his casual attention. Doors closing, metal setting against metal, the hum of what – a ventilation system? 'Doesn't matter,' part of him whispered. Yet something kept nagging at him to stay focused, but it was such an effort. Sweet sleep hovered nearby, beckoning. He felt himself drift…

A sudden thud jolted him. 'God, what's happening? Where am I?' he took inventory as quickly as his mushy brain would allow. Thought processes? Difficult, but doable. Body control? He tried moving his arms and legs – impossible. Vision? He struggled to open his eyes and finally managed. The world was hazy and unfocused.

'Drugs,' he concluded, causing only a mild emotional pang. 'They must have given me psych drugs. Keeping emotions suppressed.' As he increased the effort, his brain did begin to clear, but only to a point. It was like wallowing through molasses. Then, 'Who is "they"?'

He tried to elicit more of an emotional reaction to his dilemma, but couldn't. Detached interest was all he could muster. 'What gives with the healing factor?' he wondered. 'Should be shaking this stuff off. Time-release? Need to move – do something,' he ordered himself. He focused on moving one arm, then just one hand. Finally, he was able to wiggle a finger. 'God, such an effort!' Warren wished he cared more. Now he was exhausted and sleep pulled at him. Closing his eyes, he nearly allowed it to take him under.

'No! God, Worthington, shake this off. Think. Feel. Anything. Move your sorry ass!'

Louder voices were audible. He reopened his eyes and the world suddenly jumped into sharper focus. 'Huh! Something changed. Keep going,' he encouraged himself. Was his healing factor finally getting ahead of the drugs?

Looking around the room, he turned his head only slightly. 'Don't draw attention,' he cautioned. 'No need for anyone to know what's happening.'

He was on a bed in a small, windowless room. Bright lights shown down from the ceiling. From the corners of his eyes, he could see a small table on either side of the bed with what appeared to be instruments. As he thought about them, they looked amazingly like some of the medical devices in the palace infirmary. 'What the hell? Had they been in an accident?' This was looking more and more like a hospital room. He stole a look over the head of the bed – monitors, but they were dark. 'Could just be the screen is off.' Looking down at himself, he was no longer in the clothes he was wearing when they left the Mi-Lartui and some kind of band was strapped around each wrist. Slowly recognition came; he had seen them before in Vozeipar'de's infirmary – drug and nutrient cuffs.

Then his heart leapt. 'Ztar! Is he okay? Where was he? If anything happened to the Emperor… What the hell is going on?'

The rush of adrenaline into his system had an immediate affect and something kicked into gear. Sensation began to return to his arms and legs. Warren hadn't realized how numb they had felt until the feeling started coming back. Now is body was tingling and he felt the familiar whizzy sensation he often experienced when his healing factor was in overdrive.

'Good god, how much drug do I have in me?'

As his body performed its mutant magic to fight off the pharmaceuticals, he contemplated his situation. Two possible scenarios seemed most likely: their shuttle was in an accident or they had been taken by force. The fact that he had no recollection of anything beyond a few moments after the shuttle lifted off Gamas II was disturbing. Warren's recall even after significant trauma was always total, probably related to his healing abilities. Without any clues as to which scenario he was facing, the logical course of action would be to assume the worse and hope for the best. He would 'play dead' so to speak until someone came into the room. He may be able to pull it off – it all depended on how much he was being monitored.

If there had been in a shuttle accident, then they were likely in a hospital on Gamas II, or perhaps even at the orbital Fjai Medical Research Facility. Either way, Ztar was either alive or not and Warren was in no danger. If Warren had been very badly injured, then that could explain the drugs. The doctors may have wanted him to remain quietly unconscious while he healed on his own. That played into the Fjai scenario as Ztar's physician had explained that he apprised the Fjai doctors of his abilities when Warren had the W-Q virus. On the other hand, Ztar may not be seriously injured and was able to tell the doctors at any hospital about Warren's abilities and to let nature handle things. Yet if Ztar was even remotely able, he'd be at Warren's bedside, so the second possibility seemed less probable. That left Warren at Fjai with a likely seriously injured or dead Emperor – not comforting.

A much more disturbing scenario was that one or both of them had been somehow taken against their will and they were at an unknown location for unknown reasons. His drugged state also supported that scenario. Yet he was otherwise unrestrained, which either meant their captors didn't know about his healing abilities, under-estimated those abilities, or more likely other restraint methods that would become apparent if he attempted to leave the room. But if he and Ztar were being held, why the hospital-like surroundings? They had one thing in common – both were mutants. Did someone want them for experiments? The hospital-like room played into that hypothesis.

Warren could run through possibilities all day and it would get him nowhere. What he needed was information. The immediate question was how to go about getting it.

'Must be time-release drugs or something my body can't fully metabolize,' was his conclusion. "At least I can think more clearly. Feeling's coming back, too.' A test wiggle of a toe and finger demonstrated the progress. 'Sitting up – not so sure. Walking – no way.' He'd wait a while longer and focus on what information he could pick up from his other senses. However, one undesirable side affect of regaining feeling in his body was the growing discomfort across his back and wings. He was not designed to lie on his back for long periods of time.

Ignoring the steadily increasing desire to roll over, he closed his eyes to concentrate on what he could hear. The low background sound began separating into distinct noises. Footsteps, the hum of the ventilation system, a soft clicking of unknown source, and low voices. Picking up on the voices, he focused his entire being on that – trying to expand his acute hearing to its limit. Gradually, he began to recognize some words being spoken in Turzent, the official language of the Empire. Whether he was increasingly successful in tuning into the voices or the people speaking were moving slowly closer, he wasn't quite sure, but the result was the same – he could make out some of the conversation.

"…and see those specks in the micro-scan? Those are not natural. And the blood is slightly off chemically from normal human blood," a female was explaining.

"How do we know what normal human blood…" a male asked, but Warren couldn't make out the rest of the question.

"Earth's databases were mined right after the system was brought under Imperial control. We obtained copies of the medical knowledge base." The woman sounded quite pleased at that. Her next words were garbled.

Then the man was speaking again. "… you are saying this Archangel is not quite human?"

"Human, but with a twist. DNA scans tell us he's a mutation. He seems to have some non-human strands mixed in, but all of apparent Earth origin – nothing off-planet. Whether the mutation is natural or manipulated, we're not certain."

Then something was said that Warren couldn't quite pick up. After a few seconds, he could make out the man's voice again. "..in his blood and tissue? Where did those come from? I got the impression that his homeworld isn't that advanced."

'Shit! It can only be the nannites,' Warren quickly surmised. Now his heart was beginning to pound.

"They're not. Nothing in the mined data that suggests they have technology even close to this. These are advanced beyond anything we've seen."

"So how does a being from backward planet-"

"End up with highly advanced bionites?" the woman finished.

Then the voices faded and he could hear no more. A sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach told Warren that scenario number two was becoming more probable. Nothing he overheard could confirm that – it was instinct. He could just as likely be in a regular hospital recovering from a shuttle accident when the doctors ran across his little secret. Over the years, though, he had come to trust his instincts and they were sounding the warning sirens.

Just then the door slid open and Warren jerked involuntarily and looked toward the door at the unexpected sound. A woman shot him surprised look and retreated quickly.

'Damn it all!' Warren yelled at himself. 'Of all the stupid, amateur-' and the room went black.

### --- ###

Four days since Ztar and Archangel's disappearance and while Gtar-Cro would never give up trying, he was beginning to lose heart. History showed that if the kidnap victims are not found within the first few days, the odds of ever finding them, alive or otherwise, decreased exponentially. Each hour brought them closer to an Empire without Ztar.

No terrorist group had stepped forward to claim responsibility, which almost all but eliminated that as a motive. If such a group had indeed taken Ztar, they would have used that leverage by now to advance whatever agenda had prompted the crime. The General would have almost preferred it had been a terror organization and not what it was appearing to be – the Etagllot and/or Military Development.

Gtar-Cro could see no good outcome from an Etagllot scenario. The illicit organization had no reason to ever release the emperor and every reason to want him dead. First, though, Gtar-Cro imagined they'd use him for research.

The prognosis for Archangel was as dire. Once the Etagllot successfully acquired what they wanted – the nannites most likely – then their subject would probably become just another test subject in whatever immoral experiments they were conducting. And if the organization held to its old modus operandi, subjects who did survive the experiments were usually euthanized, as Etagllot reference it, when they outlived their worth.

But kidnapping the Emperor?! Gtar-Cro could imagine very few reasons for such a perilous undertaking. Abducting Archangel would be daring and foolhardy enough. Whether it was Etagllot or military development or terrorists, they would know that every resource available to the Empire would be brought to bear to retrieve the royalty. Relentless pursuit and death was the only future the kidnappers faced. What could possibly be worth all the risk? Yet as Gtar-Cro contemplated, the genocidal retribution Ztar wrought against the Etagllot 15 years ago may not be possible under the new constitution – not legally. Could whoever was behind this be banking on limited damage if they were caught? What contingencies did they have in place? Many questions with no answers.

Thoughts of retribution slid away. 'No time to be thinking about vengeance when the Emperor remains missing.' Ztar was out there somewhere and it burned to Gtar-Cro's soul that he was helpless to protect him. It was his job to prevent this from happening and he had failed his emperor and friend. Just as he had failed Jharda Myrundra, and before that Sukja and Archangel.

Prior to this horrible year, his record was perfect. No member of court had ever been harmed, let alone kidnapped or nearly killed. What had happened? Was he losing his edge? Was it the people he surrounded himself with? Faulty intelligence? An infiltrator? The questions plagued him. If he were the Emperor, he'd demote or worse anyone who allowed these events to occur. If by the grace of the gods they rescued Ztar, how could Gtar-Cro possibly face him? There was no defense for the incompetence.

With effort, Gtar-Cro stopped the self-recriminations. This was not the time. His focus must be on finding and freeing the Emperor and Archangel. Later he would consider his options, resignation being at the top of the list. The Royal Court of Ztar needed a protector who could ensure their safety, not someone who had permitted two kidnappings and a bombing in a year.

A small glimmer of hope shown on one front of the search – his operatives already reported progress in the investigation of the Accord angle. One lead was pointing to another and then another. And so with determination and a guilty heart, Gtar-Cro pushed his people, their contacts, and allies for every scrap of intel that could possibly point to the missing royalty. The General prayed they weren't already looking for corpses.

### --- ###

_Hope this segment measured up. Just a note – I'm heading out for a few days for my annual holiday trek to visit old and dear friends in the big city, so I likely won't be uploading another chapter for about a week or so. Still face quite a bit of work on Chapter 4 before it's post-worthy. But I will be checking in to see how everyone liked Chapter 3 (hint, hint). _


	4. Chapter 4

_The desperate search continues while Hercjell subjects Ztar and Warren to her tender mercies._

_I do need to fess up that I'm not fully versed in the Marvel Universe's explanation of Apocalypse's nannites and their characteristics. Therefore, I've taken liberties with them. As such, if any reader notices discrepancies between the official Marvel stance and mine, that's why. And as some of you have likely noted in this and the other two stories, I've also used creative license with Warren. With no reader complaints thus far, I'm assuming that is acceptable with everyone. I plan to continue to employ creative license with this saga._

_And speaking of things continuing, let's get to it!_

**Chapter 4**

Dityce sat down in Researcher Hercjell's office located at one end of the building. He noted the room was modest, but comfortably appointed despite this facility being temporary, as were most Etagllot facilities. A desk and chairs, meeting table, and a few personal items scattered about. It was also one of the few offices with a window. He was finally getting information on why they had risked so much to obtain the human. This pleased him as it showed how his status within the organization had improved significantly with the success of his assignment that many said was impossible. Those overseeing the endeavor ordered Dityce to stay on as liaison after the capture mission. Their superiors liked having two reporting channels on most projects. Hercjell was one and now he the other.

"Have a seat," the head researcher invited waving to the table. Grabbing her larger office PI, she joined Dityce and activated the viewscreen.

"First, Officer Dityce, the bionites." A couple quick taps and the viewscreen popped to life with an image showing something biological, obviously greatly magnified. "This is micro-scanned tissue from the human. The black specks are bionites. You do know what bionites are?"

"Of course," he responded flatly. He was not a scientist, but he wasn't uneducated.

Hercjell continued. "These permeate not only the human's blood, but all of his body tissue. Right now, they are dormant."

"Meaning they are either expired or their programming is otherwise complete and they're in standby mode, correct?"

She gestured the affirmative.

"You've determined their capabilities?"

Hercjell shook her head. "Other than the original transformation you should know from the project prospectus, no. It's their ability to transform the host and then allow it to return to the original state that we want. The goal of our research is to learn _how_ they are capable of that feat."

"Can't you just break into their programming for that information?" From what he knew of bionite technology, something wasn't adding up.

"Normally yes, but not in this case."

He gave her a look meant to say 'And…?' but she didn't continue. Was she being intentionally difficult? "You've had the human for two days – why the delay in deciphering their programming?"

The researcher visibly bristled. "Officer Dityce, you need to understand we're dealing with a technology advanced beyond anything we have seen. This is completely alien. It's like knowing there's a key, but no idea where the lock is let alone what the key is," she explained.

This was a concern. If they couldn't figure out the bionite programming, they couldn't exploit the technology and all they risked would be for nothing. "Perhaps a different specialty would have better success finding the lock and key," he suggested. They had artificial intelligence experts within the organization and amazingly not one was assigned to Hercjell's team. 'Why not?' he wondered.

Hercjell straightened in her chair. "Officer, are you implying the project be reassigned?" She questioned with an icy stare.

"A team that specializes in artificial intelligence may be more appropriate for deciphering the bionite programming." This one's a little on the touchy side, he thought. "Once that's done, you and your team could move forward from the bio-tech side."

"I will add that specialty to my team if required. At this juncture, I believe the specialists we have assembled will decipher the bionites without endangering the very technology we hope to understand," she replied stiffly. "If you read the prospectus, then you know the bionites haven't reactivated since their original programming despite recorded incidents that would trigger bionites of current technology. The single incident that evidence suggestions _did_ reactivate them involved the Turzent's bio-energy field. It may not be the front door, but Ztar could be our chance to slip in through the rear entrance so to speak. But again, we are dealing with a technology generations beyond what we have today. Caution must rule."

He sat back and nodded. Dityce had read the project proposal – several times. It was a lot of scientific mumbo-jumbo, but he got the general concept. Archangel was the treasure chest and Ztar a key to the goodies inside. "An immense amount of risk based on a hypothesis. I hope you're right, Researcher. What have you learned so far?" he was anxious to know and so were his superiors.

She audibly sighed with annoyance, without question for his benefit. "The bionites have unique properties that we have already uncovered. For example, when they are removed from the body, they rapidly lose the atomic cohesion, causing the molecular lattice structure to collapse-"

Dityce cut off her not so subtle attempt to put him down with her scientific babble. "Simple Turzent, Researcher…"

"The bionites self destruct," she said in an irritated tone.

Dityce ignored the attitude and considered the self-destruct angle. "A number of reasons come to mind for that. What's your take on it?"

"To prevent exactly what we attempting to do, is my first choice. Beyond that, to prevent the spread of the bionites into the general population or environment, but other failsafes can be programmed to prevent that even at our technology level. No, I stick to my theft prevention hypothesis."

"I presume your efforts are being hampered by that limitation."

Hercjell sighed differently this time – more in general frustration if Dityce read it correctly. "Immensely. It would be far easier if we could extract bionites to perform tests."

"Then if you have to slice off pieces of the human, do it."

The researcher shook her head. "Didn't work. As soon as the surrounding tissue was removed from the human's body, the bionites again self-destructed."

"How could they possibly know they had been removed from the rest of the body? Did your tissue sample die?" Dityce couldn't bring himself to really believe the head of this project was that negligent.

"Of course not!" she retorted in obvious offense.

"Had to ask the obvious – part of the job. Then what is signaling them?"

"Naturally, we asked the same question, and many more. Was there a change in chemistry in the removed tissue that we missed? Or were our preservation techniques flawed in some way for human tissue? Were they sensing the electrical patterns of the body. Those were just some of the questions we posed. All the answers came back negative. After eliminating the most common signals, we were left with one other logical possibility – bio-energy."

"Bio-energy? You mean like an aura?"

"That's what we first theorized. Then things got interesting," she replied changing the screen image to a wave pattern graph.

"I have no idea what I'm looking at here, Hercjell," Dityce admitted his ignorance, something he didn't do often. He detected a slight smirk cross Hercjell's face and she seemed to relax a bit.

"A little background, then I'll explain the graphs. Nearly all living, biological matter has a natural energy field surrounding it. People, animals, plants, microbes, etc. It's a byproduct of their biological functions, much like the energy signature an engine gives off while it's operating," she said obviously using an analogy she thought Dityce would understand quickly. "That, by the way, is what powers the Turzent's energy field. He's a type of hyper-efficient natural battery, along with some other augmenting attributes, but we'll get back to Ztar later."

Hercjell leaned back in her chair with a look of one who enjoyed educating the less knowledgeable. They were firmly in her territory now, he admitted.

"The bio-energy is fairly consistent in its composition from one member of a species to another, typically only varying in intensity. That's one type of energy. Now move on to what we think of as sentient beings – those with spirits, souls, consciousness, whatever you choose to call it. Now those have another type of energy field – less detectable and far more complex. We call it lifeforce energy. That energy signature is unique to each species or lifeform and, if you look closely enough, unique to the individual."

Dityce got it. "Like DNA sequences or vascular matrixes." They used those types of unique ID tags for security access control.

"Exactly. Once we suspected the bionites are tuned to the human's energy field, we tested the theory. In our first tests, we quickly learned that it was not the bio-energy the bionites were using as a signal."

"They're tuned into Archangel's lifeforce energy?"

Hercjell smiled. "Yes. As soon as we replicated the fundamentals of the human's lifeforce, the bionites survived longer."

Dityce caught the end of the sentence. "Longer? As in they still self-destructed?"

"Unfortunately, yes. While we can replicate many aspects of lifeforce patterns, that energy is too complex for us to mimic completely with current technology."

"Bottom line, if we want to study the bionites, the human must remain alive and in one piece," Officer Dityce summed up.

"Yes."

"Unfortunate."

"It is a hindrance, but we'll manage. Now to the interesting part," she continued, much more at ease.

"That wasn't it?"

"Not by a long shot." She pointed to the PI viewscreen. "This is a low-resolution representation of Ztar's lifeforce pattern. Now if we look closer at the components that make up that wave pattern, we see additional detail. Like zooming in on a city from a space." She worked the PI controls and the single wave pattern split apart into many separate patterns. "Now we're starting to see the complexity of Ztar's lifeforce pattern. Let's zoom in even closer." On the screen the waves started to change color, intensity, and texture. "This is about as detailed as we can get. What you see here is what makes Ztar's lifeforce pattern different from yours and mine and from nearly every other sentient being in the galaxy."

"His unique signature."

"Hmm-hmm. Our calculations estimate that there is only a 1 in 1 trillion chance that two individuals would have exactly the same lifeforce signature."

Dityce had a stroke of insight. "If you knew someone's lifeforce signature, you could scan and find them even among a planet of people."

The research sat back looking impressed. "Yes, you could. If you had a scanner sensitive enough."

"Do we?" Dityce was keenly interested in this new possibility.

"No, but I believe we have a team working on it."

Dityce's mind raced. If he had that kind of detection capability…

"That's another discussion with another research team. I have more to share with you on our findings here."

"By all means." She had his rapt interest now – this was fascinating even for a non-scientist. He leaned toward her, elbows on the table.

"That 1 in 1 trillion chance is important to remember. Those odds would be in place only if you're searching for someone within the same species. Each sentient species carries with it what we call a species marker as part of their energy signature. Remember what I said about the lifeforce being unique for each lifeform? That is why – the species marker. That marker is a much more precise detection tag than simply scanning for biological characteristics. In the case of your dream scanner, first you'd search for the species marker to focus only on those individuals of the species you're seeking, reducing the number of individuals you would need to scan. Then you'd scan your select group for the specific lifeforce pattern to find the one you want."

"I'm assuming this somehow gets back to our two test subjects."

"Indeed it does. You see, Archangel has no species marker."

"Is that odd?"

Hercjell waved an arm, indicating amazement. "To say the least. So I requested scans of other humans – both non-mutant and mutant. Without exception, they all have the human species marker."

"So what happened to Archangel's?"

"We haven't a clue."

"Are there any other species that don't have a marker?"

"None that we're aware of and we've scanned most over the years." She reached to the PI. "Let me show you something more." The screen changed to another lifeforce pattern. "This is Archangel's pattern. Nothing remarkable here. That is until you start looking at it from, how shall I say…from another angle." She changed a setting on the wave pattern display. "See this secondary pattern previously hidden behind the first?"

"Looks to me like what you showed me on Ztar's pattern – we're just zooming in closer."

"No, we haven't. This is another lifeforce pattern, completely separate from the first."

"Archangel has two patterns?"

The scientist nodded enthusiastically. "He does. Don't ask me how that's possible. I can't begin to tell you. No being should have multiple lifeforce patterns. It's just not how it works. One life, one lifeforce. Period. End of story. Until now."

"To get back to the bionites, which lifeforce are they tuned into?"

"We're in the process of determining that. At a minimum, we believe the first pattern. But the intrigue doesn't stop there." Hercjell touched the PI controls to split the screen in two. "Ztar's lifeforce pattern is on the left and Archangel's secondary pattern is on the right. What do you see?"

Dityce jumped his eyes back and forth between the two images. "They're the same. But I thought you said…"

"Our 1 in 1 trillion chance – you're looking at it," she said sitting back in a smug pose.

"What are the odds of two people of different species having the same pattern?"

"If Archangel carried a species marker, I'd say it would be as close to impossible as the universe allows. But remember, the human has no marker, so for all practical purposes, the odds remain the same on that _specific_ point."

Dityce took a moment to digest what he was seeing. "So the Turzent and human have exactly the same lifeforce pattern."

"It's like they are the same lifeforce, but only for Archangel's secondary pattern. And what I said about Archangel having no species marker?" Dityce nodded. "That was not precisely correct. He has none of his own. He has Ztar's. It's tied to the secondary pattern."

"Is that possible?"

"It shouldn't be. One species shouldn't be able to carry a marker of another. Theoretically, our 1 in a trillion pair becomes an impossibility.

Dityce shook his head. "What's the bottom line in all this, Hercjell?"

"Archangel shouldn't exist."

"But he obviously does. Could the bionites have created Archangel's second lifeforce and matched it to Ztar's? Could they have removed his species marker? Would that have been necessary so that the human could host the secondary lifeforce? And why two patterns in the first place?"

"All very good questions. Since we have no idea of everything the bionites are capable of, we as yet cannot answer them. But if they are indeed capable of those feats or whoever is responsible for the bionites is capable of that, then there is someone out there who has god-like powers."

Dityce sat and mulled over the information. His superiors would be looking for progress on the bionites. Unfortunately, a lot had been learned, but no significant progress made on learning how they work. Some would not be pleased with Dityce's report if this is all there was.

"Researcher Hercjell, as interesting as it is, species markers and lifeforce patterns are not what this project is about. What can I report as your next step in deciphering the bionites?"

The scientist looked decidedly annoyed once again, the brief affability gone. "Officer Dityce, you need to understand that research of this type takes time. We're dealing with technology so superior to ours we may not have equipment advanced enough to decipher it. One wrong step on our part and we may lose the bionites completely. Perhaps they will sense what we're attempting and self-destruct. Is that what our superiors want?"

"Naturally not."

"Then, Officer Dityce, let me and my people work at our own pace. We're as anxious to unravel this mystery as those above us. Let us do our job our way, for everyone's sake."

"Just don't let it take too long, Researcher Hercjell. Patience is apparently not a virtue in this matter."

Hercjell remained silent as she turned off the PI viewscreen.

"And your next step…" Dityce prompted.

Hercjell tapped her finger on the table. "We are going to attempt to trigger the bionites in a manner that was likely done once before by using Ztar's bio-energy. If we can scan the bionites while triggered, we should secure the data we need."

"That sounds promising. What are the risks?" It was Dityce's turn to be cautious. What Hercjell said about destroying the bionites accidentally concerned him.

"I calculate the risk as being no greater than what we've done to date. The bionites did not terminate during the W-Q virus episode so the odds are they won't now. As a potential trigger, Ztar is our best chance for success. At this juncture, we've learned nearly everything we can through non-invasive techniques. It's time for carefully calculated risks."

Dityce nodded. Even from his non-scientific perspective, it seemed the next reasonable step. They needed to activate the bio-tech to learn more. "I will report on your progress and return in two standard days for an update. Should anything significant happen in the interim…"

"I will comm you. Now I need to return to my work. The test with the Turzent is scheduled for tomorrow and I have much to prepare," the scientist finished with clear dismissal.

Dityce rose and headed to the shuttle building. Overall, Dityce was impressed as he stepped into the shuttle. Hercjell had learned much in two standard days. On the downside, she made little progress on the bionites themselves. He hoped that would change soon and his next report could be more in keeping with what their superiors wanted to hear.

Then he contemplated a rather worrisome subject – was Gtar-Cro getting close to learning where the Emperor and his companion had been taken? Each day that passed increased the odds of the General finding them or an unexpected event occurring that would unravel their scheme. Officer Dityce had learned to trust his instincts over the years and they were stirring.

### --- ###

Hank McCoy's worldwide data mining results were not encouraging. As Xavier scanned the report, his dread grew. Mutants were turning up missing all over the world. None of the missing persons was high-profile or especially well-known for their abilities. Often times the fact the missing was a mutant was a side note in the police report, something provided by family or friends in a desperate attempt to provide any information that may help their loved one be found. Others were taken from the streets and of small abilities that had helped them survive a harsh world, and only by luck did anyone notice they were gone. How many more mutants were missing that no one reported was anyone's guess.

No other common denominator could be found – not race, not country, age, gender, ancestry – nothing else. The only thing the widely scattered victims had in common was their mutation. If Gtar-Cro hadn't asked Xavier to look into the possibility, the disturbing disappearances may have continued for months before anyone put the pieces together.

Now the question was whether to share the findings with the Turzents or not. Again, Charles came back to the simple fact that the Turzent Empire was not a friend of Earth. The planet still lived under the threat of subjugation should Warren cease cooperating with Emperor Ztar. Warren had messaged Charles in enormous relief after Ztar had said he was free and the Accord void, only to later comm again saying the document remained in effect legally until Earth transitioned under the new government. While Warren seemed convinced that it was only technicality, Xavier wasn't as certain and the episode only added to Charles' doubt of the Emperor's ultimate intentions.

While overtures of freedom had been extended to him and Earth leaders privy to the Empire's existence and its government transition, it hadn't happened yet. He simply didn't trust the Empire. Push comes to shove, when Warren decided to finally leave Ztar, that's when the Emperor's true intentions would be revealed.

Charles' mind jumped from that issue to his concerns about Warren. His friend appeared to be insidiously falling further and further under the Emperor's influence and control. Given that Ztar was a powerful telepath and able to control minds, Charles wasn't surprised. Actually, what surprised him was that Ztar hadn't been more inclined to control Warren than he had. What had kept Ztar from using that ability overtly? Granted, Earth's safety was a powerful motivator for Warren to submit to Ztar's will, but wouldn't it have been easier for Ztar to simply take control of Warren? Charles suspected that the Emperor enjoyed having a victim that submitted to him in spite of the desire to resist. That could appeal to Ztar's sadistic side.

Charles could theorize and contemplate all day, but he would gain nothing. He didn't know the man or anyone else who could shed light on the situation. All he knew with certainty was Ztar and his kingdom remained a potential threat to humanity, regardless of what their representatives relayed regarding the governmental change. Earth would continue to be leery of anything related to that regime.

Meanwhile, Charles decided he would share Hank's report with the General, but he would begin his own investigation as well. They would not rely on the good intentions of the enemy regarding something potentially so serious.

He activated the comlink.

###

Gtar-Cro kept two PIs on his person or within hands reach at all times – his own and now Archangel's. The Emperor's was not recovered. It was the middle of the night and Gtar-Cro had only succumbed to the need for sleep an hour earlier. Now Archangel's PI chimed for attention waking him with a start. It was a signal from Earth. He grabbed the PI off the bedstand and activated the device.

"General, I have information to report," the human Charles Xavier began without any formalities.

Gtar-Cro shook off the vestiges of sleep as quickly as he could. "What did you learn?" he prompted as he sat up and turned on the light.

"Your hypothesis has merit. We've uncovered 63 cases of missing mutants that appear to be without typical cause."

"I assume you mean that investigators found no reasonable explanation for the disappearances."

"That is correct."

"Did you find anything that links the 63 cases to one another other than their mutant status?"

"Nothing we can determine. The disappearances are random with no discernable pattern, except they all occurred within the timeframe you requested. In the months preceding the Accord and for a period of time thereafter, only the statistically expected number of unexplained disappearances were found. However, beginning roughly two Earth months subsequent, the reports began to increase beyond the statistical norm. It started with a few scattered occurrences that could be tossed into our case pool, but the number has dramatically increased this past year."

Gtar-Cro's face took on a look of deep concern. "It is perhaps as I feared, Professor Xavier. I will share with you my thoughts, but they are as yet substantiated. We believe Archangel and the Emperor were taken by an illegal organization called Etagllot. They are a secretive group of scientists who perform questionable research for the highest bidder. Their methods go against everything the established medical and scientific communities hold as sacred responsibility. I believe this organization is behind the disappearances on your planet. The genetic resources available in your mutant population may be too tempting for the Etagllot not to exploit. They have a history of experiments involving genetic manipulation and taking unwilling test subjects when it suits their purposes."

Charles' chest tightened at the thought. "Are you saying you believed humans are being abducted for genetic experiments?!"

The Turzent's expression relayed the answer before he even spoke. "That is my theory, but as I said, it has not been substantiated."

"And you believe this Etagllot organization has Warren?"

The General waved a hand in a gesture that Charles read as an affirmative. "And our Emperor."

"The security breach involving Archangel's medical files you suspect was perpetrated by the Etagllot," Charles stated more than asked. The General again indicated his agreement.

Now Charles was not only intensely fearful for Warren and the other mutants who may well be in the hands of immoral scientists, but angry all over again at the Turzent Empire and its Emperor that brought this new threat to Earth's door.

"General, since you and your people came upon our world, you have brought only pain, fear, anxiety, and danger. Not only did your Emperor take from me someone I consider family, but now he and others may be helpless in the hands of criminals who want nothing more than to harvest genetic material from our race. I see no redeeming qualities in our relationship with your Empire and once this current situation is rectified, I will do everything in my power to ensure we sever all ties to your regime," Charles declared coldly.

Gtar-Cro accepted the voiced anger in stride. He'd heard it before through the years from representatives of various acquired star systems. Part of him, however, was a tad more concerned about this particular system since it was Archangel's homeworld. Perhaps he should attempt to smooth things over a bit.

"I understand your perspective on this Professor Xavier. While Earth did not enter into the Empire of your own choosing, you are entitled to all the protections that come with that status. Military Intelligence and the rest of the Empire's resources will work without rest to return any of your people who have been taken by the Etagllot and we will find and destroy that organization for their crimes. This I vow to you."

Charles studied the face of the alien who was currently his only link to the Turzent regime. He appeared to be speaking honestly, but alien body language and facial expressions did not always translate. Charles was left once again with his instincts on whether or not this man meant what he was saying. And despite the anger he held toward the Turzents, Charles felt this alien would keep his word. More importantly, Charles was not ready to burn his only bridge to Warren and the other probably abductees.

"I accept your vow and will hold you to it. You will find and return our people safely to this world immediately upon their rescue. And if Warren is unable to speak for himself at that time, I speak for him now. He will be delivered to Earth without delay. Your Emperor has had him long enough."

Gtar-Cro was not about to agree to that final term. Whether or not Archangel was returned to Earth was not his decision to make. "We will return all those who were taken from Earth by the Etagllot."

Charles was further angered by the sidestepping, but he'd take what he could get for now. "Given the seriousness of this situation, I will expect a report every Earth day on your progress and an immediate report should any major events or discoveries unfold."

"Agreed, but those reports will not come directly from me. I will be focused entirely on the safe return of our Emperor and Archangel. I'm sure you understand why that will be so."

Xavier nodded. It was acceptable as long as he got all relevant information. If at any point he felt he was not, then he'd take more serious measures and become directly involved in the search. There were people out there in the galaxy that owed him and the X-men.

###

Gtar-Cro knew what Ztar would want and he would want it done immediately. So in spite of everything else the General was juggling, he ordered two ships to the Earth System to protect its mutant inhabitants. Not one more of Archangel's fellows would be abducted on his watch if there were any way to prevent it.

Later that day, the liaison Gtar-Cro had requested from Myrundra's office informed Xavier of the action. According to her, the human seemed genuinely grateful, but warned that he may still call upon Earth's interstellar allies for added insurance that the threat was held at bay.

And held at bay was correct for Gtar-Cro knew full well that until the Etagllot organization was broken, Earth's mutant population would be at risk.

### --- ###

A blend of voices caught his attention. What did they say? He didn't understand. Then other noises joined the mix – a soft hum, clicks, taps, a cling – they echoed and mish-mashed together. It was nearly impossible to think. He didn't care. He'd just drift and listen.

Then a sharp metallic rap to his side made him jump internally. Strange, though, his body didn't move in response. Warren tried opening his eyes. No go. A finger? Nothing. He wasn't numb, though. The intense discomfort across his back, shoulders, and wings proved that.

"He's becoming aware," a female voice announced.

'Who is?' Warren wondered. Then, 'Me?'

"Hold him there, just at that level. I want awareness but not alertness," a second female ordered.

"Yes, Researcher."

"How is the Turzent?" the second female asked.

Warren's sluggish brain did make that connection. 'Ztar?'

"He remains unconscious and brainwave patterns are steady," a man answered.

"Good. Bring in Migiun."

Warren fought hard to remember anything. He could feel the subtle whizzing sensation. He was paralyzed, but not numb. Mushy brain and no sense of real urgency about his situation. Drugged – psych and paralytics. He vaguely recalled waking up to the same conclusion another time. Where was he? What was going on? 'Ztar?' he projected the call. No reply.

The sound of a door sliding open and footsteps.

"Migiun, please take your seat next to the Turzent. We will conduct this experiment the same as the practice run. Slowly, nothing too sudden, just as we did before," the second female ordered.

"Yes, Researcher," a third female answered.

"If you start to loose control, stop immediately. Understood?"

"Yes."

There was silence for many heartbeats.

"Good, Migiun. Keep it up," the second woman encouraged.

'If only I could see…' Warren thought and then there was an odd tingling along the side of his body. Without warning, the tingling suddenly became liquid fire pouring across his body from one side to the other. He couldn't cry out. Couldn't move. Couldn't do anything but scream in his mind. The fire not only poured over him, it felt like it was consuming him from the inside out. 'Please make it stop! Oh god!'

But it did not relent. His body fought against the drugs in its desperation to find an escape from the searing pain. Adrenaline pumped, the healing ability kicked into overdrive. The whizzing ratcheted up several degrees, blending that sensation with the pain. Warren felt as though he was burning alive.

"The human is becoming extremely distressed, Researcher. Vitals increasingly erratic, pain-markers high." The man's words were without emotion.

As Warren struggled mentally against what he couldn't fight physically, he reached down to that place in his mind he had used as an escape years earlier on the Mi-Lartui. Most of the pain followed him. 'No!'

"Any signs of a reaction from the bionites?"

"They are still dormant."

"Damn! What about his healing capacity?"

"It's keeping up with the energy trauma."

"That ability must be signaling the bionites to remain unresponsive. Makes sense. Why reactivate if the body is dealing with the injury. Gulzen, the human is still aware, correct?"

A pause. "All readings indicate he is, though his brainwave pattern shifted ever so slightly a minute ago. Likely an attempt to detach from the experience."

"Then awareness of his physical distress doesn't seem to come into play either. Okay, that's enough this round. Migium, you can dissipate the energy field now."

Waves of relief passed through Warren as the worst of the pain eased. 'Thank god!' Then he felt himself begin to loose consciousness. 'Not again!' Then only blackness.

### --- ###

'Archangel?'

Warren thought he heard Xavier's voice. Was he dreaming? Was Xavier here? His friend should be on Earth, not here on Sat'rey. 'No…not on Sat'rey…but where?' He struggled to sort it out. 'God, shake this, Worthington. Remember!'

'Archangel!' the voice was commanding this time.

'Professor?' he reached out through the haze and confusion.

'Focus on me. Come to me.'

What was Xavier asking? Come to him? Didn't make sense. Where _was_ he? His mind refused to clear. Thinking was so hard. He didn't want to try.

'Archangel!' the voice was sharp. 'You must focus. Now, X-man! Follow me.'

So much like Xavier sending orders. No choice but to obey. Must obey. Warren focused on the mental summons.

'This way, Archangel.'

Slowly the blackness began to swirl and light crept in around the edges. Warren could start to make out a figure. 'Professor?'

'Keep coming.'

As Warren's mind floated toward the figure, the blackness turned grey. Shapes began coalescing around the figure. Mountains? Without warning, the forming images began dissolving.

'Archangel! Stand your ground. You will stay here!'

The order reverberated in his mind. 'Yes, sir,' he answered automatically and struggled against the pull back into the blackness. Once again, darkness gave way and a mountain meadow materialized as he watched in detached fascination. The feel of the other presence grew steadily. A figure walked to him. It wasn't the Professor, it was Ztar. Then Warren realized that he also suddenly had a body and he looked down at himself as Ztar drew close.

"My Archangel!" Ztar spoke aloud and took Warren in a strong embrace.

Perplexed, Warren pulled back from Ztar to look up into the Turzent's face. "Where are we?"

"In a mental construct. It's the only way we can communicate right now."

Warren shook his head to clear the cobwebs. It didn't help much. "Where are we really? I have some memories – a hospital? Were we in an accident?"

Ztar wrapped his arms around Archangel and held him close again. "I wish it were that innocent. We're in an Etagllot research facility. We're both drugged, unconscious, and they are conducting research."

Warren pushed back sharply. "You mean experiments? On us?!"

Ztar nodded. "Yes. Mostly on you. You're their focus."

Warren stepped backward in horror, but Ztar's hands remained firmly at his waist. 'Oh, god. It's your worst nightmare, Worthington!' Shivers ran through his construct body. The frightening thought dispelled more of the mental fog. "You're certain?"

"I am as certain as I can be in this condition."

"But if you're unconscious, how…"

"We have a sympathizer. Her name is Migiun. She's a telepath – quite powerful."

"She's working for the Etagllot? It's a trap, Ztar!" Warren warned in alarm, squeezing Ztar's upper arms tightly.

"No, I'm quite certain it is not. She allowed me to scan her to prove her intentions."

"And you did that while drugged and unconscious?!"

Ztar smiled. "There are parts of the mind where drugs have little effect. That's how we're communicating now. I accessed that part of your mind. Much easier, though, between two telepaths. You're unconscious state proved quite difficult to break through. Likely because of the amount and kinds of drugs they keep flooding your system with. Migiun said they've been having more and more difficulties keeping you sedated. Your metabolism is quite miraculous."

"I think I remember a couple times feeling like I was waking up, but just couldn't quite shake it off. If we can stay in continuous contact, that's something."

Ztar traced his beloved's face. "I wish that were the case. However, much of my time is spent in an area covered by psychic dampeners. It's only when Migiun is present or you and I are together that I'm able to reach you."

Warren's thoughts raced. "So we're being experimented on right now?"

Ztar lowered his eyes. "It's you who is undergoing the procedures. I'm just a tool."

"What does that mean?"

"Archangel, let's not dwell on that right now. You're body is whole, healthy, and you're in no immediate danger. Please trust me."

Warren shuddered and searched the eyes of the Emperor. The mere fact that Ztar didn't want to tell Warren what was happening was very distressing. Perhaps, though, it would be best not to know…at least for now.

"What do they want?"

"The nannites."

"Shit!"

"My feelings exactly."

Then "But they can't have them – the nannites don't survive outside my body."

"I'm surmising that's why you're still alive."

"Oh god…" Warren swallowed hard even in the construct. "This Migiun is going to help us?"

"She is not going to interfere with us. Her family is very much in jeopardy if the Etagllot find out she's assisting us in any way, but she is willing to share information and not give us away."

"You have a plan?" Warren prayed that was the case. He let Ztar pulled in back into an embrace, the Turzent's chin resting on the top of his head as Ztar sent soothing feelings through him. For a brief moment, he felt safe.

"Perhaps, if Migiun will allow me to use her as a vessel. Let me tell you quickly before they remove me or Migiun from the lab."

### --- ###

"What?!" Hercjell demanded.

"Our superiors want the Emperor gone from Ymoz. His continued presence is an unacceptable risk to the project. Too many people are looking." Dityce relayed the orders as he stood in front of Hercjell's desk. He always preferred issuing orders while standing.

al'Verta frowned, drumming her fingers on the desk. "And give up the only known trigger we have for the bionites?" She'd been optimistic that this project would be granted the luxury of time, considering its suggested importance.

"If I understand the reports correctly, that was only a hypothesis by Ztar's physician. You've confirmed his energy field was the trigger?"

The frown deepened. "Not as yet…"

"Then I suggest that you either do so quickly or release the Emperor. You are to wipe his memory and I'm take him from there."

"Scientific research does not follow a predetermined schedule. Too many variables. I need Ztar for as long as I need him."

"Unfortunately, you don't have unlimited time. Scientific research also needs to accept the reality under which it operates. Each day that passes increases risk of discovery."

Hercjell leaned on her desk toward Dityce. "Then you and your people haven't done a very good job of erasing your trail." Some things never change. Once more, her schedule was being accelerated because Etagllot security could not ensure their safety. The idyllic research environs the organization had promised years earlier yet again eluded her. If you were Etagllot, there was really no safe place, she admitted.

Dityce stiffened at the accusation. "There is no trail to follow, Researcher, but General Gtar-Cro and his people are very, very good at their job." It was the truth. He left nothing that would lead Gtar-Cro to Ymoz. That didn't mean others hadn't.

"Security is your department's responsibility, Officer Dityce," she accused, her eyes dancing with fire. "Perhaps you need to focus on providing that so our work here can continue unthreatened."

Dityce shifted his weight. This was going over exactly as he anticipated – not well. 'Scientists can be a thorny lot,' he thought in resignation to the conclusion he came to long ago and nothing in the ensuing years had changed it. "As in your research, security deals with variables, unexpected results, and outside influences. Each day the Emperor remains here increases the odds of the unpredictable happening."

"That is illogical. Removing Ztar from Ymoz will not stop the Empire from looking."

"No, but it will lessen the variables of his mere presence." Dityce paused and considered whether to share what he suspected. He decided it might lessen the resistance. "Head Researcher, for what it is worth, I agree with you. However, those above us have their own agenda. The Emperor is to be removed from Ymoz and I suspect that security concerns are only part of the reason." He had his own theory on the driving forces behind the sudden shift in attitude. Let Hercjell read what she may into his words.

The scientist leaned back. Now they were getting to the heart of the matter. Likely someone was itching to exact revenge on their old nemesis. "What happens to Ztar once you take him?" she wondered knowing the odds of getting any kind of real answer were virtually non-existent.

"That's for others to decide. You are to make sure he remembers nothing. Be certain Migiun understands the importance of that task."

"Understood. But I'm not done with him yet, Dityce," she tried one more time, knowing it was likely a lost cause.

"You have three more days, then I return for Ztar. Those are the orders." Dityce gave Hercjell a hard look.

The researcher sighed in defeat. "Understood." Three days were better than no days.

Dityce was relieved the scientist backed down. Then again, what choice did she have? He sat down in front of her desk without invitation. "What can I say is your next step," he inquired now that the first order of business had concluded. The researcher paused a bit too long for Dityce's liking.

"We will induce death in the human in an attempt to force the bionites to activate." al'Verta waited for the expected reaction.

Dityce did not like that plan at all. The only thing keeping the bionites intact was their host being very much alive. "Researcher Hercjell, perhaps you should reconsider. There is too much at stake. I rather doubt our superiors will support such a…" he almost said reckless "an aggressive procedure."

Hercjell nearly rolled her eyes. "Officer Dityce, if I believed for one moment we would be unable to resuscitate the human quickly, I would never propose the test. Of course I understand the risk if we lose the host. I assure you that will not happen. If there is even the slightest indication the bionites are self-destructing, we will reverse the process. I'm being backed into a corner. Since you are taking the Turzent from me in three days, I need to become more aggressive in my methods."

"And you believe induced death will trigger the bionites?"

"I am hopeful it will. We will replicate to the best of our ability the circumstances surrounding the human's death on Sat'rey. Physician Vozeipar'de believed the death of the human in combination with the Turzent's bio-energy field is what reactivated the bionites and nothing we've found as yet disputes his hypothesis. Hopefully, they will be triggered again if we can replicate the original conditions."

Dityce contemplated for many moments before speaking. "While I see the logic, I have reservations and will note that in my report. Should the human truly die or the bionites self destruct…" The situation had all the makings of a no-win scenario. He would word his next report very carefully.

The officer's attitude riled Hercjell – apparently the liaison was under the impression that he had some say this project, but she held her irritation in check, mostly. "I understand the ramifications all too well, Officer. Now if you'll excuse me, I have three days to recreate what happened on Sat'rey and awaken the bionites before you take the trigger from my labs," she said in as dismissive a tone as she could muster.

'Oh, she had to get in one last shot,' Dityce noted with a blend of irritation and admiration.

### --- ###

Sukja paced. His forced seclusion in his sister's home was driving him to the brink. He felt detached from events and so utterly helpless. His emperor and dare he say his friend remained missing after six days. The fear they'd never find Ztar grew with each passing hour. Sukja riled at the limited information coming his way from Gtar-Cro's office. Security concerns was the excuse they used. In a universe with telepaths, one can't be too careful they told him. MI had immediately installed a dampening field generator in his sister's home, much to her chagrin. Guards discreetly surrounded the house and one resided inside at all times.

"How much longer do we tolerate this?" his sister demanded when security refused to allow her to have family over for an evening's dinner and conversation to help take Sukja's mind off whatever it was that had happened.

"Just a while longer. Please be patient," he'd pleaded. His sister was not known for her patience. With each day of inconvenience, she became edgier.

"Why can't you just tell me what has happened, Sukja?" she demanded.

"I'm sorry, dear sister, I cannot. Please trust that all this is for a reason. Pray to Ozja for a happy resolution and that none of this will be needed much longer."

She simply sighed and walked away. If only she understood how more difficult her attitude was making his private vigil.

### --- ###

Familiar sounds and voices emerged from the blackness. "The human is aware, Researcher."

"Good. Everyone, let's do this exactly as programmed. No screw-ups or we could have a disaster on our hands. If this trial run goes well, we will proceed with the full test tomorrow."

Warren recognized the female voice giving the orders. He'd heard it just moments ago. Or was it moments? An odd sense of time passage gripped him.

"Migium, wait for my signal. Gulzen?"

"Ready here," the man confirmed.

"Everyone else?" A pause. "Gulzen, arrest the heart and breathing when you're ready."

'Do what?!' Panic swept over Warren. 'No! Wait!' Then his chest tightened, followed by a sharp hiccup-like feeling. Suddenly his lungs weren't working and intense pain gripped his chest. His head whirled violently and his body seized. 'Shit!'

Suddenly, he some place else and he was falling, though he'd be hard pressed to say in what direction. 'Where am I? What's was going on?' He reached out with his thoughts in desperation. 'Please anyone!' A distant light shown through the darkness, but it was so far away.

A brush against his mind made him turn. 'Who?'

'My Archangel!'

'Ztar! Thank god.' A shadowy figure emerged from the darkness to join Warren in his plunge toward the light that was quickly growing in intensity.

"We need to stop, Archangel." Ztar switched to speaking.

"How?"

Ztar reached out his hand and took Warren's. "Follow me."

Their fall slowed, stopped, and then they floated gently.

"Where are we?" Warren asked.

"In your subconscious. I've been trying to reach you, but it has been more difficult this time. They keep increasing the potency of the drugs in your system. I'm not sure how long I can maintain contact."

"What's going an? Everything's in bits and pieces." Warren explained in confused frustration.

"I've little time. Next time we meet, you must be ready. Understand?" Ztar said with urgency. He grew more desperate each day. He'd learned the Etagllot were trying to reactivate the alien technology. If that happened, he feared losing his Archangel to the creature the nannites were originally programmed to transform Archangel into – Apocalypse's lethal creature called Death.

"Ready for what?" There was something he should be remembering, but it eluded him. Warren felt nothingness creeping in once again. Fear gripped him as he felt Ztar slip away. "For _what_?!" Then nothing.

### --- ###

_Okay faithful readers, thoughts…questions…observations…any glaring errors in logic? I'm busy with the final edits of Chapter 5, and I'll hopefully post it in another few days. _


	5. Chapter 5

_We've come to the action part and I know my author's insecurity is showing when I say I hope it all works and you, the reader, can visualize what I see in my mind. It'd be wonderful to get some feedback on that specifically. With that said, let's get to the running and flying and fighting!_

**Chapter 5**

As many years as the General had been involved in investigations, it still thrilled him when one small bit of information unraveled an entire mystery, especially when that bit is five years old. Such was the case with the one paragraph clause in the Accord.

After four days of intense investigation by dozens of Turzent and Par-Sen operatives, Gtar-Cro had the name of a planet that could be connected with a secret biotech research project looking for a researcher just three months ago. It was the best lead they'd had in the seven days since Ztar and Archangel's disappearance. Two hours ago, Gtar-Cro ordered his ship and two other smaller cruisers to Ymoz hoping his instincts were right. In two standard days they would reach the remote planet in a region of Turzent space known for little but its mining colonies. He would have sent others if any ships were closer – none were. It would be two very long days.

### --- ###

From within his mind, Ztar knew the instant they wheeled him into the test lab. The dampening field was less intense. At least his higher mind was free – his body and brain remained in its drugged oblivion. He reached out in search of Migiun. She wasn't in the room yet – that was as far as he could scan under the circumstances. Neither was Archangel nearby. So he waited while the scientists went about their work setting up for the test where they were going to recreate Archangel's death, right down to Ztar's envelope of bio-energy.

It wasn't long before Archangel was brought in and he extended himself to the human. Cutting through Archangel's drug-induced oblivion took all Ztar's hampered psychic strength. It would have been easy if he'd waited for Migiun, but Ztar was impatient. Today was the day. Finally he felt the human's deep consciousness stir.

'Ztar?' Archangel projected back. Even that small thought was sluggish. Ztar knew the human needed time to focus.

'Yes. I need you to listen to me very carefully. You must be alert.'

'Trying,' was the only reply. Ztar learned from Migiun that Archangel was on increasingly powerful drug cocktails to stay ahead of his body's natural ability to adjust, metabolize, and render drugs inert. Migiun had also shared that the head researcher believed the day's experiment held the most hope for triggering the nannites. If escape was going to happen, it had to be now – they were out of time. Ztar had seen in Archangel's mind long ago what the alien technology was capable of fully activated and it was a decidedly disturbing vision.

'Archangel, we're getting out of here.'

'Where's here? What's going on?' He heard Ztar, but the voice was dull and distant. Warren was confused. It felt like familiar confusion. Didn't something like this just happen? 'God, mind so mushy…thinking hard." He tried to recall anything that would explain what was going on, but came up with only fragments of sounds, voices, sensations. Flashes of memory would start to coalesce, only to dissolve before he understood them.

'Everything will be clear soon enough. Right now, you need to be ready. You're body is going to start waking up. You must fight hard and fast to regain movement and alertness. Very hard!' Ztar emphasized. Now they only needed the Etagllot telepath to arrive. The wait was excruciating, so he focused on ensuring that Archangel did not slip back into full unconsciousness while the scientists readied for the experiment.

What seemed like an eternity later, Ztar felt Migiun's presence and touched the other telepath's mind. 'I've informed Archangel. Are you ready, Migiun?"

'Remember your promise, Ztar. I mustn't recall a thing. I'm putting my family's life on the line.'

'You will remember nothing. I'm very skilled. Do not worry,' he reassured the woman who had no reason to help them except for her sense of right and wrong. What the Etagllot scientists were doing to her Emperor and his companion was untenable.

'I'm ready, my Emperor.'

Migiun relaxed her mind and did not raise any psychic defenses, allowing Ztar to enter and join with her. Blending consciousness first, Ztar moved his mind deeper into Migiun's until she and he became one. He felt was she felt; knew what she knew. He took control of her power, using that newfound strength to fully awaken his own mind despite the drugs in his system. In a swirl of rapidly increasing power, their combined mental prowess flooded him. It was intoxicating. Now that he was merged with her, the psychic dampeners had no effect on him as they did not block Migiun's signature. He was free to wield their combined weapons through his surrogate.

In the instant before one scientist was going to raise the alarm about Ztar's changing brainwave patterns, he froze the man. Next order of business was to nudge the two technicians controlling the flow of drugs into him and Archangel to ease back on those and finally stop the flow, slowly, carefully as to not gain attention as everyone else readied the test. Ztar knew Archangel's body would shake off the drugs quickly. Ztar's would need help. From the technician hovering over him, Ztar took from his mind the counteracting drugs. Like any well-stocked test lab, they sat in a cabinet nearby.

Ztar suppressed the technicians' awareness that their patients were wakening.

"We are ready to begin, everyone. Gulzen, administer the ninbiontin." Ztar knew that came from Researcher Hercjell. It was time to make their move.

'Archangel, it's time. Fight hard. You must wake up quickly. Our lives depend on it.' He felt a sluggish but determined mental nod.

Ztar took complete control of Migiun and mentally rendered Gulzen immobile before he could administer the drug Ztar knew would stop the Archangel's heartbeat and breathing. Then he gathered his and his host's energies and lashed out with their combined power for a single, mental blast. Everyone in the room dropped where they stood with no time to utter a word. The only sound was limp bodies hitting the floor.

Ztar had Migiun administer a full dosage of the counteractants into his system and smaller doses to Archangel, release the restraints around their arms and legs, and remove the various drug and nutrient cuffs. Now they needed time. As they waited to shake off the drugs, Ztar/Migiun scanned continuously for signs of trouble.

Warren sensed greater awareness before he could even move a finger. With the help of the counteractant, his healing factor, which was already in overdrive, was rapidly overcoming the drugs. The sudden increased effectiveness of that ability made the world spin. A wave of nausea hit his stomach briefly and then quickly dissipated. When the whirling eased, he opened his eyes, moved a finger, then hand, and arm. He felt oddly heavy as he slowly sat up, assuming the heaviness was an effect of the drugs.

Warren quickly surveyed his surroundings. Numerous people were unconscious on the floor. 'What the hell?' Scanning the rest of the room, it appeared to be a lab – medical equipment and paraphernalia and monitors everywhere. Ztar was lying flat on his back on an examination platform. Warren eyed the only individual upright in the room; a female standing motionless next to Ztar.

'You okay?' Warren projected worriedly to the Turzent, as he stretched and moved his wings. He'd obviously been lying on his back far too long from the level of stiffness and residual ache.

'I need a couple more minutes,' Ztar relayed.

'Who's she?' Bits of memory began jelling. Etagllot. Experiments. He shivered.

'Our savior. Her name is Migiun. I'm controlling her,' Ztar explained. 'I promised that I do everything I could to make it look convincing. They can't know she assisted us in any way.'

'Is this room being monitored?'

'Not at the moment,' Ztar replied. He and Migiun had made certain of that.

Warren checked himself more closely. He was wearing what looked surprisingly like a hospital gown and nothing else. He _hated_ the feeling of violation that came with having been stripped while unconscious and another shudder raced through his body. Otherwise, he seemed intact and well.

Within a couple minutes of regaining consciousness, Warren felt steady enough to stand and slid off the table. Hitting the floor with bare feet, he felt like he'd suddenly gained a lot of weight. 'God, what they pump me full of? This is weird!'

He moved to Ztar, still a little unsteady and the heaviness made moving feel awkward. "You need to get up now," he encouraged and grabbed the Turzent by the arm, working himself under and behind a shoulder to move the Emperor into an upright position. "Upsy-daisy, Emperor!" Warren said as loudly as he dared.

Ztar was regaining motor control in his extremities. He wiggled his fingers and toes, soon followed by hands and feet. The more he moved, the more he could move. "The counteractants are working. A few more seconds."

To Warren, the seconds felt very long before Ztar moved his weight off Warren and was able to sit up by himself.

"Ztar, I think the drugs are still having some affect on me – I feel heavy or weighted down or something."

Ztar managed a small smile. "It's not drugs. Ymoz has stronger gravity than Sat'rey."

"Of course! So I have gained weight," Warren smiled in return. "Sure feels odd."

"I concur, my Archangel. Now Migiun and I have more work to do," he said barely above a whisper.

Ztar/Migiun sought out the security control room and puppeted the guards into shutting down all dampening fields, surveillance cameras, and alarm systems. Then they induced deep sleep in those guards. With the dampeners off-line, Ztar felt a wave of psychic relief.

While Ztar and Migiun were busy "elsewhere," Warren searched for something more suitable for escape than a hospital gown. In the adjoining room, he opened cabinets until he found something promising – lab wear. The shapeless top and bottom weren't exactly meant for their wearers to do anything too physically demanding, but they were better than the thin wrap they currently wore. By the time Warren returned to the lab, Ztar and the other telepath had finished.

A quick change of clothes and with an entranced Migiun in tow, they left the lab. Ztar/Migiun mind-swept continuously in a 360-degree pattern, pushing any conscious minds they touched into deep slumber. Passing the sleeping bodies in the hallways was eerie as the trio slipped through the quiet corridors.

'If they keep this up, escape will be easy,' Warren allowed himself to think, hoping he hadn't jinxed anything.

He should have known better.

"Stop right there!" a man's voice yelled behind them.

'??' was Ztar and Warren's simultaneous thought. Shouldn't be possible to sneak up on two telepaths.

Ztar instinctively summoned up his energy field. In that same instant, the man behind them squeezed the trigger of his phase gun not willing to take chances with the escaping trio. The gun's phase energy blast was directed at Ztar's back and when it hit his forming field bubble, it spread and exploded around the trio, sending them flying forward to the floor.

Warren was felled and dazed, but conscious. Looking quickly over at Ztar – he was obviously reeling from the energy backlash, and while not unconscious, and definitely out of commission. Migiun was unconscious.

'Goddamn!' Warren eased unsteadily to his knees.

"Don't move or I fire again. Stay down!"

'Play dead, Ztar!' Warren projected the warning. The Emperor mentally affirmed the command.

Turning his head slowly toward their assailant, Warren saw just the one man who obviously was not a security guard. He was dressed in lab garb, donned with some kind of headgear, and a gun was shaking in his grip.

"Pretty clever sneaking up on us like that," Warren said casually, as he slowly rose to a standing position as to not spook their assailant. Behind him, Migiun moaned.

The man looked like he wasn't sure if he should fire or speak.

"That thing on your head – is that a dampener?" Warren inquired. That was the only possible explanation. He wanted to make this quick, but he needed another few seconds to recover.

The man hesitated, gun still quivering in Warren's direction. "Yes, a personal psychic dampening field. Those two won't be using their telepathy on me!"

While Archangel kept the man busy, Ztar worked telepathically to bring Migiun back to full consciousness. In the meantime, he scanned for any more approaching minds and the signature he now recognized as a new type of psychic dead spot.

A few more seconds, Warren told himself. He was feeling steadier by the moment.

"Quite effective. We never felt you coming."

"Enough talking!" the scientist warned. "The guards will be here soon."

Warren smiled. "They may be awhile. In the meantime, why don't you and I get better acquainted?"

The expression on the man's face changed to a mix of apprehension and perplexity. At that moment, Warren sprang into the air with one powerful beat of his wings and hurtled himself at the gunman, instantly feeling the effects of the stronger gravity. Panic crossed the man's face, his single shot went wild, and Warren was upon him. One punch to the chin, and he went down without so much as a yelp.

Warren turned back to his companions as he straddled the fallen scientist. Ztar sat up and moved to Migiun, who was stirring.

"She's coming to, but I'll have to carry her for a while," Ztar informed.

"How the hell did he sneak up on two telepaths?" Warren demanded. "I thought you could detect dampening fields?"

"The signature given off by his headgear is something neither of us encountered before. Definitely new technology. Now that we know what it is, no one else will slip through."

"Good to hear. Then let's blow this Popsicle stand before we have any more surprises."

Ztar briefly considered the new technology with concern. This he must share with Gtar-Cro's telepathic operatives. Then he refocused on their escape.

Noticeably unsteady, Ztar rose, scooped up Migiun, and they proceeded as quickly as the Turzent could manage. Warren hoped they could get out of the building before running into anyone else. Loping down the hall, the trio turned a corner. Windows greeted them revealing a world outside that looked dry and hot.

"Figures – barren desert. Why couldn't their lab be nestled in a verdant little milieu?" Warren bemoaned sarcastically.

Ztar sighed in shared disappointment.

Warren's scan up and down the corridor revealed no nearby exits. "We need out."

"The nearest exit is some distance away according to Migiun," Ztar explained. "We should keep moving."

Warren glanced around quickly – nothing readily available to throw through a window, assuming it was breakable. Warren hadn't a clue. "I'm assuming there's breathable atmosphere outside?" The Turzent nodded. "Do you think you can blast us out of here?"

"Depends on the material used." He handed Migiun to Warren. "Stand back." As he energized, the Emperor shimmered like a mirage.

Warren moved away, pulling his wings forward instinctively as a shield for Migiun.

Raising his arm, Ztar focused on a single point in the middle of the window and released the build up.

Zeek-bang! The sound reminded Warren of a close-proximity lightening strike.

Warren relaxed his wings. The window was cracked, but still intact. "Damn."

"Must be synplex. I'll try again."

Warren pulled his wings around them once more as the Emperor focused an even narrower energy beam at the crack.

Zeek-bang! This time the sound of flying debris followed the strike and a rush of hot, dry wind poured through the jagged opening.

"Here," Warren handed Migiun back to Ztar. "If I get cut, I'll heal quickly."

"I think I can stand now," she said weakly.

While Ztar steadied the woman onto her feet, Warren yanked and pulled out more window material to ease their escape.

"We're getting the skimmer now. Migiun, I need to join with you again. People are approaching." She nodded and let Ztar enter her mind.

'Skimmer?' Warren wondered to himself. He didn't know a lot about spacecraft, but he recognized a skimmer as being an in-atmosphere transport vehicle only.

Climbing through the window, the trio moved quickly toward a nearby building that Warren presumed housed skimmers. 'Jesus, it's hot!' he complained to himself while noting the stronger gravity pulled at his feet as they ran. The sun-baked sand made it feel as though they were running across a hot skillet.

"I've disabled the people inside the building. We should be able to safely enter and take a skimmer, but then we must leave Migiun and lose her added strength," Ztar explained as Warren yanked open the door to the hangar.

"Meaning…"

"Meaning if they pursue us in vehicles equipped with dampeners, I won't be able to stop them telepathically."

"Bring her with us."

"She refuses. She will not risk her family further."

Three skimmers sat in the small building in three sizes – small, medium, and large. "Just like _Goldilocks and the Three Bears_! You choose," Warren suggested.

Ztar didn't understand the reference, but other things were more important at the moment. Spying one Ztar liked, they ran over to the craft. He had chosen agility over size.

"So from this point forward, it gets physical," Warren surmised.

"Yes." Ztar palmed the hatch control. Nothing happened. "By the gods, what else?!" Ztar paused a moment, scanning the minds of the unconscious bodies in the hangar. "We need that one over there – his bio-sig will open the door," he said, pointing to a man lying next to another skimmer.

Warren ran, snatched up the body, returned, and held the man near the control while Ztar pressed the limp hand to the panel. The hatch lowered.

"Bring him, we may need that hand again," Ztar explained. As Warren ducked into the craft, Ztar turned to Migiun as he separated their blended consciousness.

"Words cannot express our gratitude, Migiun. I will crush the Etagllot and free you and your family from them. This I vow."

Migiun smiled, but it was a sad smile. "I hope you make it, Emperor. It has been an honor to serve you." She paused, placing a hand on his arm. "Now your promise. Please be thorough but quick. I sense others approaching."

Ztar quickly entered her mind and began dissolving every shred of memory from the past several days. He was upset by the pain he had to inflict to accomplish that task quickly, but she wouldn't remember that either when he was done. Then he induced a deep sleep in the fellow telepath, lowered her gently to the ground, and made his way quickly inside the craft.

Taking the pilot's seat, Ztar powered up the skimmer. Warren settled into the co-pilot spot.

"What's the plan from here?"

"For right now, to put as much distance between us and our captors as possible and try to make contact with the sector comlink."

"But why aren't we going after a shuttle? Skimmers can't go into space, can they?"

"I considered that. However, since their shuttles are at the opposite side of the compound, our chances of grabbing a skimmer were higher." Ztar continued activating controls and signaling the hangar door to open. So far, they hadn't needed their guy in the back.

"So what? Between you and Migiun, we could easily get to the shuttles."

"Skimmers offer agility that shuttles can't match."

"But if we could get off planet…" Warren countered. Ztar's strategy was eluding him.

"And go where? Ymoz is an isolated planet in an isolated star system. A shuttle would never reach another inhabited world. The Etagllot chose this world for a reason."

"But we could just run until help arrives!"

"History tells us the Etagllot nearly always have a ship close by and we would be easily recaptured. A shuttle gains us little over a skimmer. No, I'd rather stay planet side where we can better fight until help arrives."

"I just hope we can get a message through. Doesn't sound like we'll get out of this mess without outside rescue."

Ztar didn't bother responding. Unfortunately, Archangel was likely correct. He eased the skimmer up and toward the hangar door as it continued to open. "Staying planet-side, we can leave the vehicle and engage in hand-to-hand combat, if needed, where I think you and I are more than a match for anyone they will send after us."

"I'll buy that for now." Perhaps there was some logic in Ztar's thinking. "Still I worry about weapons we can't fight." He remembered the concussion cannon from the kidnapping months earlier.

"We have a send-off committee just outside," Ztar announced.

"Then let's ditch our admirers and blow this joint. Hit the afterburners!"

With that, Ztar kicked in the "afterburners" and indeed blew the joint, the backlash sending anything not tied down flying. The Etagllot fired a couple quick shots that bounced harmlessly off the shields as the craft climbed quickly out of range.

### --- ###

"I don't care what it takes! Get those two back here or- or you'll be stationed on Renia guarding the trodjens!" Researcher Hercjell yelled at the head of facility security as he helped her off the floor of the lab.

Security Head Jmaricz cringed. Assignment to Renia was like a transfer to oblivion. Guarding the trodjens, Etagllot experiments gone bad but too valuable to euthanize, was the lowest of the low assignments; decidedly not what he wanted for his future.

Hercjell straightened her clothing and held tight to the edge of the examination table for support. Her legs were wobbly, but her mind was clearing quickly, although she had a doozy of a headache, likely the result of the mindblast from the Turzent.

"Yes, Researcher. I've three pursuit teams in motion. Ztar and the human foolishly took a skimmer, so they won't be going off planet. That will help immensely. We should be able to close in on them quickly."

Hercjell grinned internally at the word skimmer. That could mean only one thing – Ztar didn't know. The vaunted telepath hadn't detected the psychic barrier around her secrets. The Etagllot's Master Telepath had done the job well. And neither was Jmaricz privy to that detail, and she intended to keep it that way for now.

"Foolishly?! Jmaricz, I'm not sure how you managed this post, but foolish is the last thing I'd call Ztar. He chose a skimmer with careful thought. Do not underestimate the Emperor. You've checked that communications with the sector comlink is still blocked?" If it wasn't, she was going to personally kill someone.

"Of course! Communications lock-out was not breached. Don't worry, Researcher, my guards are well trained. We'll get back your test subjects," the man said with an air of confidence that Hercjell couldn't fathom he could still hold to after this disaster. What the hell happened to all their security measures?

"If you do not, Jmaricz, your new post will be waiting," she threatened again.

### --- ###

Ztar pushed the skimmer to its maximum velocity out into the desert landscape. As far as Warren could see, there was nothing but dry, desolate sand and rock with very little vegetation.

"Archangel, I'm going to put into your mind how to contact the comlink system. We'll need to circumvent their comm blocks."

"You couldn't do that earlier? I'm assuming they have some sort of communications room."

"The whole facility is in communication lock down. Migiun and I tried, but we didn't find the person with the access codes. I'm guessing their security protocols had me in mind and the codes are tucked away somewhere very secure – perhaps with someone off planet."

"And we can bypass that with the skimmer's comm?"

"In theory. I have a few tricks up my sleeve I learned from one very brilliant comm tech awhile back. Gtar-Cro surrounds himself with only the best. She was quite the comlink eavesdropper!" Ztar elaborated with a smirk.

It was a weird sensation having knowledge suddenly come to you. As often as Xavier had done that to him over the years, the process continued to be disconcerting. One moment you don't know something, the next you do. As Warren looked down again at the alien controls in front of him, he knew what each one did. He bypassed various security protocols, cross-connected two otherwise unrelated systems, force-fed the relay codes to the jury-rigged comlink interface, then waited for the interstellar comnet to acknowledge. And waited. Ztar looked at him inquisitively.

"We should have gotten a response already. Keep trying." Ztar glanced at the viewscreen. "Three shuttles are now in pursuit."

Warren kept broadcasting the signal. "You couldn't have a puppet in the facility do this same thing?"

"Base systems differ from vehicle comms – my knowledge is only for systems in skimmers and shuttles. The limitations of…transferred knowledge."

"You stole that from the comm tech, right?" Warren grinned, having caught Ztar in an apparent act of telepathic larceny.

"I acquired a copy," Ztar smirked. "She still has the original."

"Thieves – they're all alike," he chided with chuckle. "What do we have for weapons?"

Ztar glanced at the sensor readings. Their pursuers were closing the gap. "This skimmer has the standard phase cannon. There should also be hand weapons in the cabinet behind me."

Warren got up and opened the cabinet. "Bingo!" he exclaimed in English.

"I hope that's a yes, my Archangel," the Emperor remarked, getting a very odd comment from his embedded translator about game of chance.

"Most affirmatively." He'd leave the weapons where they were until needed and settled back into the co-pilot seat. The skimmer was quickly putting a lot of distance between them and the Etagllot compound. Unfortunately, with each passing second, the shuttles were gaining ground.

"Anything?" Ztar inquired with a nod to the comm controls. He had a bad feeling.

"Nothing. Maybe they have jamming stations or-"

"Or something's amiss with our skimmer's comm." Ztar turned part of his mind to the unconscious maintenance tech on the floor of the skimmer and probed deeper.

"Damn the gods! What a fool I was!" Ztar suddenly proclaimed.

"What?!"

"They reworked the skimmer comlinks as a security measure long ago. All signals go through a relay station. One guess as to the only relay station on Ymoz."

"We can't override?"

"No, it's a hardwired modification. We'd need tools and more time than we have."

"Shit."

"I should have probed his mind more deeply earlier. It just didn't occur to me. Stupid!" Ztar was furious with himself.

"We'll figure something out. Did they do the same thing to the shuttles?"

"Our guest," Ztar tipped his head in the direction of the unconscious tech, "has no knowledge of the same modification to their shuttle fleet, but it makes sense they would not since they're off-planet craft. I can't read our pursuers so I can't confirm that through anyone else. The shuttles' dampeners are active."

"Then we need to get a shuttle – or something." Warren glanced over at the scanner screen. "Right now, we've a more immediately problem. The hunting parties are closing in fast. Any ideas?"

"We have maneuverability; they have more powerful weapons. It becomes a question of piloting skill."

"Pull the shuttles into a chase down here and maybe we can shake one or two whose skills aren't as advanced, right?" Warren surmised and Ztar nodded. It was the very tactic he had used countless times when being chased in the air. Get your pursuer so focused on following you that they're in over their head before realizing it and then pull a maneuver they can't recover from. "How good a pilot are you?"

Ztar shot a quick grin at Archangel. "I was quite good when I was younger. Raced skimmers in the obstacle runs during my military days. Haven't done that for a long time, but I'm hoping the old skills are still there."

Warren looked out the skimmer windshield. The flat desert was giving way to high, jutting outcroppings and sheer rock wall mesas in amazing numbers. "Hoping? Jesus, Ztar. You'd better be right about that. The landscape ahead looks like one big obstacle course."

Ztar prayed his old skills hadn't left him entirely or he'd be no better than those pursuing them.

"And let's assume they still want us alive – stay optimistic," Warren added.

Ztar pushed the skimmer toward the ground. "No, Archangel, they want you alive. I'm just an optional tool. If I'm killed, that's collateral damage they'd be all too happy to incur. Unfortunately for me, they likely know you'll survive all but the most catastrophic crash and injury."

The Emperor leveled the skimmer out a few feet above the ground and began weaving his way around rocks and mesas. Watching the screen, their pursuers had split; two coming down low to follow and the third remaining higher.

"They are using some strategic thinking," Warren commented. "Get us high or low."

Ztar only nodded, staying focused on piloting. The landscape was flying by them at dizzying speed. One miscalculation and the results would be spectacular.

An indicator flashed on the comm control panel. "We're being hailed. Can't imagine what they want to talk about," Warren feigned puzzlement to Ztar, just before hitting the comm. "What may we help you with today?" he asked oh so politely.

"Land that skimmer immediately. If you do not comply, we will target your engine," the female voice demanded in thickly accented Turzent.

Leaving the comm open, Warren turned toward Ztar. "Emperor, do you feel like landing our skimmer? It's entirely up to you."

Ztar smirked. "Not really. Been awhile since I've had to pleasure of piloting one of these," he replied getting into the play-acting Archangel initiated. "I find I'm enjoying myself."

Warren returned his gaze to the comm panel. "So sorry, Emperor Ztar is having too much fun at the moment. Perhaps we'll land a bit later."

A rough laughter came through the comm. "You would have me believe that the _Emperor_ is with you? Do you think me a complete fool? Land now! I will not warn you again."

Warren muted the comm and turned to Ztar. "Interesting. They don't know."

Ztar wove the craft around another rock formation, cutting it so close Warren winced. He placed a hand on the control panel to steady himself from the rocking motion.

"Makes sense. They're simply security guards. My being here would be on a strict need-to-know."

Warren nodded and reopened the channel. "Madame, perhaps it's you being played for a fool. Your Emperor is being held prisoner and now you're hunting him down. Turzent military may not look favorably on your homeworld for that crime," he explained smoothly.

A sudden alarm sounded.

"They've locked weapons." Ztar's voice was tense. "Apparently your argument was unconvincing."

"You will land now or I fire," the female was firm.

One shuttle was coming up along side staying slightly to their left rear, while the other remained much further behind. Ztar kept the skimmer at full throttle as they approached a cluster of small mesas.

"I think we've heard enough from her," Warren said, silencing the comm just as a weapons beam sliced through the air to their left impacting protruding rocks ahead of them, sending a shockwave of fragments in all directions, pelting the skimmer.

"I'd guess that's our warning shot," Warren offered.

Ztar only nodded, completely absorbed in piloting. He double-checked that shields were up as he dodged and weaved around another outcrop. Keeping one eye on their closest pursuer via the scan screen, Ztar had noticed the pilot was much more cautious than Ztar, weaving wider with less daring. 'Less skilled?' Ztar could use that to their advantage if correct.

With a chimed warning, the skimmer lurched violently with an obvious weapons hit. The threat hadn't been idle. Alarms sounded as Ztar fought to stop the skimmer from careening to the right.

"Shields held," Warren called out with a glance at the control panels. A quick check of enemy positions showed little change.

"They won't for long against shuttle weapons. We need to avoid another hit," Ztar said in a calm detachment. He remained focused on the obstacles ahead and ran several quick scenarios as they raced through the mesa cluster.

"Anything I can do?" Warren asked, bracing against the control panel as the skimmer wove sharply to avoid a tight formation of outcroppings.

"Be ready to fire weapons to our left rear at full force, long blast." To ensure no misunderstandings, Ztar sent a visual to Archangel.

Ztar pushed his piloting skills to the max as he dodged and darted around the rocks, their pursuers staying close. As they approached the next mesa, Ztar positioned the skimmer to ensure the shuttle to their left stayed there.

'At my signal,' Ztar 'pathed to Archangel. Telepathy was faster at this point.

Warren hovered his hand over the firing control.

Just then, their pursuers fired another shot, but Ztar managed to jerk the shuttle to the right enough that the phase weapon grazed instead of impacting directly. Another shot immediately followed, but missed its target as Ztar anticipated and pulled the skimmer up sharply several feet.

Warren hung on as the skimmer rocked and rolled its way to the next mesa.

Closing the distance rapidly, Ztar began the countdown in his head, checked that their closest opponent was slightly behind and to their left. He edged the two tandem crafts so they would be precariously close to the mesa's vertical rise.

'Three.'

The mesa loomed large.

'Two.'

The skimmer and shuttle came along side the rocky rise.

'One.'

In a sudden move, Ztar decelerated rapidly and yanked the skimmer left directly into the path of the shuttle.

'Now!' he mentally yelled to Archangel.

The less skilled pilot panicked, pulling his own craft sharply to the left to avoid a collision with the skimmer. Unfortunately for the shuttle, the mesa was immediately to his left. As the shuttle scrapped along the side of the mesa, the skimmer's weapon strafed the rock wall ahead of the imperiled shuttle, adding to the craft's distress.

A more experienced pilot or one with more natural abilities may have pulled the shuttle out of the situation, but Ztar's earlier assessment of the flying skills of their pilot proved correct. The shuttle pitched, rolled, scrapped, and dragged along the side of the mesa as rock fragments hit the craft like missiles off the cliff face.

Within seconds, something snagged the shuttle and it went wildly out of control. Ztar pulled up hard, pushing them back into their seats, as the doomed shuttle spun suddenly in their direction. The next sensor readings showed a minor explosion as the vehicle rammed headlong into a large rock outcropping, ricocheted, and finally came to a rest on the desert floor. One down, two to go.

"Yes!" Warren exclaimed as the readings confirmed the shuttle was out of commission.

But the victory was short lived as the second shuttle started firing and the third still lay in wait high above. As Warren braced himself in his seat, Ztar dodged and darted the agile skimmer to avoid the enemy weapons fire. With the second shuttle settling in on their tail, Ztar dove the skimmer back toward the desert floor where its agility provided the most advantage.

Obviously, the second pilot wasn't going to be lured into another surface-skimming chase and remained above them.

"Shit!" Ztar said in English.

Warren glanced over at the Emperor. "So you're learning my language now? I didn't realize you were interested."

Ztar flashed a quick grin at Archangel. "Can't have too many curse words," he explained, turning back to focus on flying. At that, Ztar yanked the skimmer straight up like a fighter jet and directly into the path of the second shuttle. Warren was nearly ejected from his seat when Ztar banked hard right to avoid a collision. The maneuver was meant to scare the bejabbers out of the shuttle pilot. It had equal effect on Warren.

"What the fuck, Ztar?! We're trying to stay alive, not commit suicide!"

"Another good swear word. Thanks, Archangel," Ztar chuckled as he pushed the craft down once again toward the desert. A quick glance at the viewscreen showed the second shuttle had veered off, but was coming back around.

"Where's that third shuttle?" Ztar wondered aloud

Warren checked the display. "Look up," he answered just as the third shuttle let loose with their cannon. A hard turn and half roll to the right and Ztar managed to stay out of the line of fire as the shots streaked past to their left.

Warren groped for anything resembling a seat belt, but found nothing. "Don't you believe in buckling up in the Turzent Empire?" he asked incredulously.

"Just hang on, Archangel."

"That's what I'm trying to do!" Warren grabbed the edge of his chair with one hand and edge of the dashboard with the other in a vain attempt to brace himself as the skimmer continued to dodge and swerve. While he was giving the Emperor a friendly hard time, Warren was impressed with his piloting skill. Who knew?

They flew along the desert floor at a breakneck speed toward another mesa with one shuttle in hot pursuit behind and the other coming around from above. The mesa was growing larger in the windshield by the instant. Ztar kept the skimmer heading directly toward the rock wall.

"Ztar, perhaps you don't see the wall in front of us?" Warren was a touch concerned as he quickly analyzed their rate of velocity versus the ability of the skimmer to make quick course changes.

"Have faith, Archangel. Target the shuttle behind us and fire on my word."

Suddenly the wall was upon them and at the last possible instant, Ztar pulled up hard to run straight up the side of the mesa. Then he kept pulling them up and over in a somersault maneuver that them positioned behind the far less agile shuttle that was struggling to keep up.

"Now!"

Warren laid in weapons fire across the shuttle's mid section and finally its stern as they came down behind. While the shuttle shield took the brunt of the energy, sensors revealed they had inflicted some damage. "Alright!" Warren whooped.

Ztar banked sharply left as the shuttle banked to the right and they parted company. A full circle pattern brought them back toward the shuttle for another strafing run. Just as Warren pelted the enemy craft with phase blasts, he saw the third shuttle closing in.

"Trouble above!" Warren warned. The third shuttle was coming in hot. Ztar attempted to dodge the gun fire, but was only partially successful. Phase gun energy caught the backside of the engine pod and the skimmer bucked angrily. The next instant brought alarms declaring the skimmer's unhappiness.

Warren immediately saw Ztar struggling more with the controls. "Problems?"

"Yes. We've lost some maneuverability and it looks like the engines are beginning to overheat."

"Damn! Now what?"

As Ztar fought to control the sluggish craft, another blast hit them. Now all manner of warning lights and sirens competed for attention. Ztar pulled the skimmer up and over the edge of a large mesa. "I think we need to abandon ship," he said with regret. "Prepare for an unexpected landing, my Archangel."

"As in crashing landing?"

"That would be correct."

The skimmer jerked and bucked as Ztar worked the helm controls, or what was left of them. The mesa plateau was flat and looked like as good a place as any to Warren for crashing. They'd be on a high mesa, but he could likely fly them down to the desert floor when need be. Despite the skimmer controls being nearly inoperable, Ztar managed a fairly decent sliding touchdown, although Warren would have felt better if they hadn't slid quite so near to the edge of the mesa.

"Cut it a little close, didn't you?" he chided the Emperor as they climbed out of their seats.

"You're criticizing my emergency landing? I thought it was quite nicely done," Ztar feigned insult.

Warren yanked open the arms cabinet to grab phase weapons. "Any landing you can walk away from is a good one, as they say," he offered handing Ztar a gun. "I'll take the high road and you take the low road."

Ztar looked at Archangel with slight puzzlement. "Can I assume that means you'll be flying and I'll be running?"

"Pretty much. Though my maneuverability is going to be hampered. It feels like I've gain 50 pounds!"

Ztar hit the control panel to open the skimmer hatch. "I'll maintain telepathic contact."

Peering out the opening hatch, they heard a shuttle landing before seeing it. At the same time, the third shuttle whizzed by overhead. As soon as they were outside the skimmer, a loud voice boomed from the landed shuttle.

"Surrender now and you will not be harmed!" It was a male voice now giving the orders.

"Promises, promises!" Warren clipped. "Ztar, I'm taking to the air to do something about our third hunting party."

Ztar grabbed Warren's arm and squeezed. "Please live, my Archangel."

Warren looked into the concerned face of the Turzent Emperor. "You, too, Ztar." With that he leapt into the hot desert air with a powerful beat of his wings.

'Jesus!' he swore as soon as he was airborne. The added pull of Ymoz's stronger gravity was even more pronounced in the air. His wings felt as if they had 25 pound weights strapped to them and he feared immediately that his agility and stamina were going to quickly erode.

Flying straight out across the mesa, Warren headed toward the landed shuttle for a strafing run. Phase weapon targeted, he let loose at the guards spilling out of the shuttle hatch. One guard was hit while the others dove for cover around the shuttle. Just as quickly, they returned fire as Warren pulled up and over, evading phase trails as he flew. Memories of the terrorist kidnapping flashed through his mind. It was like déjà vu.

His keen eyes caught the third shuttle coming in fast from the other end of the mesa. As it passed over their skimmer, Ztar fired at the underbelly of the craft. The phase beam appeared to do little if any damage as it impacted the shields.

'Ztar, I'm going after the airborne shuttle now.'

'I'll handle the ground troops,' came the reply.

Warren flew up toward the shuttle as it sailed past the first craft and started turning back toward their position.

'Oh no you don't!' Warren quickly soared to place himself between Ztar and the shuttle, training his weapon. As he got off several shots across the front of the shuttle, he picked up shouting from below.

"We're to take the human alive! Remember that! The Turzent is optional."

A shot from the ground suddenly came uncomfortably close to Warren just as the third shuttle bore down on him. Beating his wings hard, Warren put distance between him and the guards on the ground as the shuttle darted past him on its way to where their skimmer sat. Just to make a point, he ran a trail of phase beam across the ground in the vicinity of the guards as he headed toward Ztar. He fired several blasts at the rear of the shuttle as it hurtled toward the Emperor. The shuttle began to swing around.

"A little game of tag perhaps?" Warren asked of their pursuers. A couple more phase blasts, and he definitely had pulled their attention from the Emperor as the craft came straight at him.

Warren headed toward the edge of the mesa as the shuttle followed hot on his tail. The shuttle may be fast, but Warren was far more agile. As soon as he cleared the mesa, he went into a dive, twisted his body, and fired back at the dropping shuttle. He doubted his weapon would ever break through their shields, but at least it kept their attention until he could figure something out.

At the last moment, he grabbed air and changed his downward plunge into horizontal flight, but with the strong gravity, he nearly didn't pull out in time. 'Damn!' he swore as the tip of his left wing swept the ground as he veered. A quick glance up confirmed the pursuing pilot didn't make the same mistake he almost had and was pulling out at a gentler angle.

Darting to his left, he rounded the base of mesa with the shuttle in pursuit and then pulled sharply to his right in a tight "V" pattern the shuttle hadn't a chance of replicating. As he flew the evasive maneuvers, the increased tug of gravity was dulling his moves. They weren't as crisp and tight. It was like a constant drag. He shot out across the rocky terrain gaining altitude and pushed himself to the limit of his speed. A quick glance behind him proved the shuttle was closing in.

###

Back on the mesa, Ztar swore silently when he saw the same headgear on the Etagllot guards as the man in the hallway. A quick mental scan proved the equipment was completely effective in blocking his telepathic probes. 'Damn!'

As he watched, the guards deployed two handheld devices and immediately formed two groups around those holding the equipment. Risking a shot, Ztar stood and fired his weapon only to have the phase beam deflected by a shield of some sort.

'What?! Portable shielding?' Shields were common on shuttles and ships, but one small enough to be carried and used by ground troops? The field generators required a significant power source, something you don't just carry around in your pocket. He didn't know technology existed for handheld shielding of significant strength and duration. Apparently, he was wrong.

As the guards began moving toward him tucked safely behind their shields, Ztar was worried. Not only were the guards impervious to his mental abilities through the headgear, but now his phase weapon was apparently useless.

###

Far out into the desert, Warren decided the shuttle was getting too close when they fired. He barely dodged the energy blast. "What happened to taking me alive?!" he shouted at the vessel. Likely, though, the guards had been informed that short of destroying a major portion of his body, Warren would survive most injuries, and as such, they needn't be gentle in taking him alive. The thought was not comforting.

Digging his wings into the air, he pulled into a vertical climb, twisted, and fired at the roof of the shuttle as it zoomed by below. The weapon would have little effect against the shielding, but it felt good to hit the target. As his pursuers swung their comparatively lumbering shuttle around to re-engage him, Warren took a few moments to check out his surroundings and the possibilities with his extraordinary eyesight. He scanned for anything that may be of potential use. He didn't come up with much.

'Need to turn on the brain, flyboy! You can't keep this game of tag going forever,' he told himself. His wing muscles were already feeling the effects of the heavier gravity and he was sweating from the intense sun. It was possible the heat would get to him before the Etagllot.

The shuttle was rapidly approaching once again and a prickly feeling that he was in their gun sights crawled through Warren. He dived toward the desert floor.

###

Ztar fired his weapon at the advancing group while attempting to break through the psychic dampeners each wore with little to show for his efforts, while the shields held fast against his phase weapon.

"Stand down and you will live!" one of the guards commanded. "If not, we kill you here."

'Friendly group,' Ztar thought sarcastically. He wondered if he mentioned that they were threatening to kill the ruler of the Turzent Empire if that would carry any weight. Yet considering they laughed when Archangel mentioned it to the crashed shuttle, he decided it wasn't worth the effort. Who knows what the Etagllot had told their guards. And how many of them would care if they did know they were hunting their Emperor. It may even fuel their desire to harm him.

'If phase weapons are useless against the shields, let's see how they hold up against me.' Ztar ceased firing and waited as the cluster of guards cautiously edged closer to their prey, building his energy field as he kneeled behind the hatch ramp.

'A little closer…closer.' He allowed the energy to reach a critical level where he needed to release or it would let loose itself. Nearly jumping to his feet, he held out both hands to focus the energy into a beam and cut loose.

The cracking sound of lightening rang through the air as the blast hit the shields. The guards were knocked backward in unison, but remained on their feet, although with difficulty, looking stunned. "What the fuck?" Ztar said in Archangel's language, equally stunned. What kind of shield technology was he up against? 'This is not good!'

The guards looked back and forth between themselves, seeming surprised at the power of their prey's built-in weapon. He rebuilt his field quickly and hit them again while the group collected themselves.

This time, one of two groups actually was knocked on their backsides from the backlash. 'Perhaps the shield has its limits?' Ztar thought with hope. Could he drain whatever power source fueled it? Then a less hopeful thought. Ztar also had his limits. Which would give out first – the shields or him?

As he wondered, the guards' weapons were trained on him once again and he ducked behind the hatch plank just as they fired. He was pinned down and not happy about it. Where was Archangel? What he still free? Ztar reached out to find that his companion was indeed free and dodging enemy fire. It made Ztar's heart move to this throat.

'Archangel, situation here not encouraging. Any chance you can make it back?'

###

Warren heard Ztar's mental voice as he rounded a mesa with the shuttle in hot pursuit. 'I'll see what I can do. Not much out here to work with.'

Ztar dropped the contact and Warren refocused on the task at hand. As he circled the mesa about mid-way up its wall, he noticed it appeared to be sloughing off large chunks of rock over time. In fact, there were a couple areas that looked like they were ready to give away. 'Hmmm,' Warren thought, wiping sweat out of his eyes as he propelled himself faster.

###

His adversaries were moving toward him once again, looking very confident. Evaluating the situation from the guards' perspective, their quarry had few options left. The phase weapon was of no use and his bio blasts had limited effect. All they needed was one clean shot and he was theirs.

"You've nowhere to go. It is time to end this," their leader announced. "Come quietly and you will not be injured."

'Blatant lie!' Ztar fumed, sending another blast against their shields in reply. The group staggered, but the shield held. He was quickly disheartened.

###

At another mesa some distance away, Warren looked at the phase weapon in his outstretched hand.

'Ztar, question for you,' he projected out. Feeling the Ztar's mental attention, he continued. 'These phase guns, can they be set to overload?' Warren was imaging a scene from the old _Star Trek_ series.

'Of course, Archangel. Most phase guns can also be used as small bombs.'

'And these small bombs are pretty powerful?'

'Depends on the amount of charge in the gun. A fully-charged weapon can do a lot of damage.'

'Show me how.'

Warren felt the knowledge come to him. Easy enough, if you know what you're doing, but Warren had to do it on the fly.

'Archangel, whatever you're planning, make it fast. I need you here.'

Warren swallowed hard at that. The feelings coming through the telepathic connection were not encouraging. As he circled the mesa, the shuttle fired again, and again Warren dodged, but his reaction time was slowing. The constant drag and heat were taking their toll. His wings felt heavier by the minute and his flight muscles were burning. His plan needed to work and work quickly. He had one chance at this.

The gun would go into forced overload and explode like a hand grenade in five seconds according to the knowledge Ztar pushed into his mind. Warren hugged the side of the mesa as he scanned for the right rock slab. Many showed potential, but he wanted one that was large enough to do the job while showing the most promise of giving way.

Another phase burst from the shuttle startled Warren when it exploded the wall next to him, blasting rock shrapnel in all directions. The concussion knocked Warren sideways in the air while razor sharp fragments sliced his body. The pain was immediate, intense, and everywhere.

Warren struggled to stay airborne against the pain, the blast shock, and the strong gravity. His head was whirling, ears ringing, and his body began whizzing as it coped with the many wounds that were bleeding profusely. Sucking air, he fought to retain consciousness as he hovered.

Suddenly, the shuttle was directly next to him with its hatch open. Through the haze of shock and pain, he saw a man aim something in his direction.

'Move, Worthington!' A single, powerful beat of his wings propelled him upward just as a capture snare shot from the shuttle doorway.

'God, that was too close!'

With no time to wait for his body to heal, he blocked out the pain as much as he could and focused on his objective and headed around the mesa toward the spot that looked like his best option. Thankfully, he had hung onto the phase weapon through the blast. Fighting against shaky hands to complete the overload setup, he flew as fast as he was capable to his target zone.

###

Ztar had nowhere to go. The guards were advancing and none of his weapons had much affect, but he was not about to be captured or killed without a fight, whether it be hand-to-hand or otherwise.

Standing, he raised his energy field in a pseudo force field and moved away from the approaching party. One fired his weapon and as it hit Ztar's field, the backlash would have knocked him off his feet if he hadn't braced for it. The stress of holding the field against the phase blast was draining, but he managed to return fire with his own blast in a narrowly focused beam. The punch of the concentrated impact knocked the guard holding the field generator backward into the arms of another guard, but they managed to keep the field in position as Ztar hit them again. This time with essentially two guards holding the device, they remained standing firm, but the shield appeared to be weakening. 'Might be making progress,' he allowed himself hope.

Unfortunately, Ztar was also feeling the drain more acutely with each blast. He moved further backward, suddenly remembering the nearness of the mesa's edge. A quick glance confirmed how close the 500-foot drop was. He was out of ground and options.

'By the gods, where is Archangel?'

### --- ###

_Okay, I know it's another cliffhanger – literally. I just can't seem to help myself. With the holidays nearly upon us, I'm not sure how quickly Chapter 6 will be posted. I'd just love it if I could carve out a day or two and just sit and write/edit. Maybe Santa will give me that as a Christmas present! _

_I'd love to hear your comments. Aside from Winchester-grl44, I'm feeling a little lonely!_

_Side note: For those of you who loved the angst and emotional strife of the other two stories, we'll return to some of that later in the story. Warren's ultimate decision regarding Ztar still hangs out there!_


	6. Chapter 6

_Happy New Year to everyone! May 2010 bring contentment and prosperity to you and yours._

_Well, Santa did bring me a couple days of quiet, so I've edited/revised/re-edited our next chapter. This actually started out as one very long chapter, but after being away from the story for a few days, I decided it needed to be broken up. So I split it down the middle – hopefully, the new break point works. _

_Thank you reviewers!! You keep me motivated through the seemingly endless editing. Anyone else out there who'd like to add their observations, questions, or opinions will be welcomed wholeheartedly. As I believe many authors would say, this stage of the writing process is the hardest part – and really tedious. By the final reread/edit, I've nearly memorized the chapter and just want to move to the next one. But the work must be done, so reviewers are without doubt key to staying on task – don't want to let you down with anything less than my best!_

_With that, let's get back to the action and see if our duo manages to get out of their not-at-all-tedious predicament! _

**Chapter 6**

His target was just ahead. A quick glance behind showed the shuttle scant seconds off his heels. He started counting and praying.

Six. 'Wait,' Warren told himself, with another quick backwards glance.

Five. 'Trigger.' His finger pressed the trigger. Target in view.

Four. 'Straight up now.' Straining all his flight muscles, he performed a 90-degree change of direction the shuttle could never duplicate.

Three. 'Bombs away!' He released the gun from his hand into the rock crevice beneath him and soon to be directly above the approaching shuttle.

Two. 'Fly like hell!' He beat his tired wings hard.

One. 'Now?' For a millisecond, his heart lurched when nothing happened.

Ka-voo-o-o-m!! The mesa beneath him shook.

Then all the planets aligned and a blue moon shone somewhere because just as the shuttle passed beneath the huge rock slab, it gave way and collapsed directly on top of the craft. There was no recovering as the massive weight suddenly impacted against the shields. Rock slab and shuttle tumbled down the side of the mesa to hit the desert floor below, exploding on impact.

Warren's chest tightened at the loss of life. He never intentionally killed anyone, yet that was always the risk when you engage in battle and he accepted the inevitable that at times his actions would result in death. Someday, it might be his.

Warren alighted on the plateau to catch his breath, standing with hands on his knees. He was winded, hot, and his back, shoulder, and wing muscles burned. At least his body was making quick progress of the many shrapnel injuries he had suffered and that pain was fading. The bleeding had nearly stopped as the wounds closed. Looking down at himself, the flimsy lab garb was more red than gray from blood and it was filled with holes from the rock fragments that had peppered him. Thankfully, he looked far worse than he felt.

After a few moments, he thrust himself back into the air with a groan and soared toward the Emperor.

###

Ztar was growing weaker by the moment. His body shook from the strain to hold his field as he backed up. A couple more phase blasts and it would collapse. Another check behind him and he jerked. The edge!

'Archangel!' he cried out with his mind.

###

Warren focused his extraordinary eyesight on the mesa where he could clearly see Ztar lashing out with an energy blast. The Etagllot guards were using some sort of deflection field that appeared to be holding against Ztar. Even from his distance, Warren could see the strain on Ztar's face – he was wearing down. More alarming was the little fact that Ztar was nearly out of terra firma as he backed away from his attackers. A couple more feet and he'd be at the very edge of the drop. 'Shit!' Warren downstroked hard to accelerate. 'Time to kick in the afterburners!'

Just then, Ztar's desperate plea rang sharply in his head as he rapidly closed in on the man's position. The Emperor let out another blast with decidedly less impact. The hunting party's advance quickened, likely sensing their prey was weakening. The drop beneath Ztar was straight down – no protrusions or snags. Warren ran some calculations. His idea would either work or end in disaster.

'Ztar, when I give the word, jump!' he projected out forcibly.

There was a pregnant pause, then '_What?!'_ The mental voice was incredulous.

'Jump off the cliff when I say go! Just do it! Trust me.' But would the Emperor? It would be a huge leap of faith – literally.

This had to be timed to perfection. 'God, I'd better be able to pull this off,' Warren thought as he closed the gap at breakneck speed. He was more than slightly concerned about now much Ztar weighed versus the length of the drop versus the stronger-than-Earth gravity. Ztar was a big guy and Warren was already tired.

Warren counted off in his head as he streaked to the catch zone. Three…two…one. 'Now! Go!!'

Ztar didn't move.

'_Jump_, damn it!' Warren screamed in his head.

Just as the guards surged toward him, Ztar leaped off the mesa, dropping his bio-field, and prayed. _'By the gods!!'_

Warren had only scant moments to match Ztar's fall and grab the Emperor before he would have to divert their headlong plunge to the desert floor. Within a second of Ztar's jump, Warren was next to him, working his aerial skills to their max to not hit his wings against either the cliff face or Ztar while trying to match speed and direction. Within two seconds he was ready to grab hold of Ztar whose eyes were very wide.

'Archangel!' Ztar 'pathed to him, the mental voice filled with intense urgency.

Warren wrapped his arms around the seven-foot, solid muscle Turzent and started braking. "Holy shit!" he exclaimed in dismay as Ztar's falling weight became fully apparent. 'This won't be pretty!' Working them from a mostly vertical descent to an angled fall would gain him precious air feet. Ztar's heavy mass did not want to change direction, but with two powerful wing beats, they were moving more horizontally and away from the cliff face – still rapidly descending, but at an angle.

Just to add to the fun, their pursuers were firing from above. Apparently, Ztar's optional capture status had been decided and not in his favor. The next shot came uncomfortably close to Warren's left shoulder. 'Got to get us outta here!' he pointed out the obvious to himself as he struggled against the strong pull of Ymoz's gravity. The ground was coming at them with alarming speed.

Ztar stole a glance at rapidly approaching desert floor. 'Archangel?'

'Busy, Ztar. I'll get back to you!'

Two more strong beats and their chances for survival looked marginally better. 'Now to start pulling up.' Warren changed the angle of his wings to grab as much air as possible without risking injury. His tired muscles and tendons cried their discontent as he fought to slow their plunge, groaning with the effort. Another streak of orange-tinted light zinged by narrowly missing its target. 'These guys are pretty good shots,' Warren observed nervously. 'The next might find its mark!'

He wanted to put the mesa between them and their attackers. Warren dipped his left wing into a sharp turn. At the same time, he needed to shed more speed, decrease the angle of their descent, or gain altitude – something! The ground was way too close for any kind of controlled landing at their current velocity.

Gritting his teeth, he strained his incredibly strong muscles to their limit as they rounded the mesa to deny their pursuers a target, at least until they repositioned themselves on the mesa above or got in their remaining pursuit vehicle. 'Worry about that later,' he told himself. 'Right now, you've got a little problem with gravity to work out.'

Warren quickly scanned the lay of the land ahead calculating their likely crash site. And a crash landing is what it was going to be if Warren didn't do something extraordinary in the next few seconds. 'Damn it all!'

Ztar's grip around the back of Warren's neck was a strangle hold. That didn't help the situation. And the Turzent's weight across his arms threw his center of gravity forward. There'd be nothing fancy about this landing – too much awkward mass. Warren would survive the impact, but Ztar didn't have Warren's healing abilities. He'd have to protect the Emperor as much as he could. He had little idea how he'd do that, but that was the theory.

'The ground…?!' Ztar's extremely anxious voice slipped into his head again.

'Please hold, Emperor.'

Wings burning with exertion, he kept trying to pull up and slow them down. 75 feet, 50 feet – he ticked off the estimated altitude. 'Shit! Too fast!' 25. 15. With a final desperate effort, he grabbed a large chunk of air and downbeat as hard as his over-taxed wings could manage. They slowed measurably and in that split second, he rotated their bodies. And then the ground was there.

Cavoompfh!! The air exploded from Warren's lungs at impact, his body squashed between the desert floor and Ztar. Then it was just pain, wild motion, and dust. Warren thought they bounced once, maybe twice before settling into a tangled tumble followed by a slide across the sand before stopping many feet from the point of impact.

He had no air in his lungs, but Warren still managed a gasp as white hot pain shot across and down the shoulder and arm that took the worst of the impact. Broken ribs weren't out of the question either as each ragged breath was like a knife in his side. He lay quietly while the world spun and throbs of pain consumed him.

'Gotta move, Worthington. Bad guys coming.' Slowly, agonizingly, he sat up, sucking in air to keep from blacking out. Looking over at Ztar, the man wasn't moving.

"Ztar!" he yelled. Nothing. 'Damn!' Clenching fists and teeth against the stabbing pain, he crawled to the Turzent.

Ztar moaned, realized he was likely still alive, and then heard Archangel call his name. He didn't feel like moving just yet – too afraid of what he might find was no longer working. Yet they were still in great danger and not moving wasn't a luxury they had. 'So far, no intense pain.' He'd take that as a good sign. Then he felt the human next to him. 'Time to move, Emperor,' he ordered himself.

As Ztar slowly tested his limbs, Warren sighed in relief. "Are you injured?"

The Turzent cautiously righted himself. He appeared dazed, but otherwise there were no apparent wounds beyond bad scrapes and cuts. Hopefully, he had no head or internal injuries. Turzents were a tough breed, though. The odds were in their favor.

"I appear to be whole, Archangel." Then Ztar fully took in the sight of the man kneeling next to him and his eyes widened. His bloodied, dirty clothes were in tatters with dried and drying blood coating much of his skin that glistened with sweat. The wings were speckled with blood and the desert sand had turned the white feathers a dirty brown. Archangel was panting hard from exertion, and his face reflected pain as did their link. "By the gods, my Archangel, you look horrible! Are you seriously injured?"

The familiar whizzing sensation was in full force and the warmth of healing tissue spread across Warren's shoulder, arm, and side. "I'm healing. Should be ready for action shortly. The guys on the mesa will be coming soon," he said wiping the sweat from his face with his sleeve.

Ztar's look of concern deepened further. "This is not a good situation, my Archangel."

"Hah! You first figured that out now?" Warren jested to ease the foreboding emanating from the Turzent and shook his head, then winced in pain at the move. "We need to talk about you losing some weight. God, you're heavy!"

That brought a small smile to Ztar's face. "I can't use Ymoz's gravity as my excuse?"

"Nope. It's a diet for you when we get back," Warren joked – there was no excess fat on the Emperor's lean body.

Just then Warren heard the sound of a shuttle and looked up. The craft was coming over the edge of the mesa. "Company's coming."

"We're completely exposed out here. Any ideas?" Ztar asked urgently. He was fresh out.

"Perhaps…" Warren watched as the craft gradually sank vertically along the face of the mesa. Why hurry? Their prey had no where to go. "We're sitting ducks – neither of us is exactly at peak performance right now. One well place phase shot from the shuttle and they've got us. Do you have any blasts left in you?"

"To what purpose? I might manage one or two, but it won't do any damage against their shields. I should save my power." Ztar was still weak, and even at full strength, his energy blast alone couldn't take out the enemy's craft if shielded.

"Saved power does us shit if we're unconscious. I say pull their fire in the direction _we_ choose until they land."

Ztar wasn't convinced, but they didn't have time to argue the merits of one strategy over another. He rose to his feet, took aim at the lowering craft and let'er rip.

Kaboom! As soon as his blast hit the craft, he knew something was wrong – the shuttle careened toward the mesa. "Shields off?!" he said aloud to Archangel with a quick glance. Had they inflicted more damage earlier than they thought? Perhaps there was a chance! He instantly struck the craft hard with another bio-burst before the pilot fully recovered from the first, pushing the craft into the rocky cliff.

"Be right back!" Archangel yelled in a swirl of feathers and sand.

Ztar's piloting experience helped him anticipate the next moves the shuttle would make. He jumped from his position behind a large outcropping just ahead of a phase blast, dirt and debris flying with deadly force, pelting his rocky shield. What energy he had left was quickly running out. 'Need more time to recharge!' he wished, knowing he had no time.

Warren raced to their crippled skimmer and scanned the ground as he approached. 'There!' In a dive and grab maneuver so fast some would have difficulty following, he snatched Ztar's discarded phase weapon from the ground and swung back toward the last shuttle, readying the gun while fighting the searing pain of his injuries that came with every movement.

Ztar stood to let loose another blast as the craft jerked off the rocks. Everything was spinning – he was at his limit. It was a struggled to remain upright. If they fired another shot now, he wasn't sure he could dodge it. The shuttle jerked and lurched in movements indicating the pilot was struggling with helm damage. He was indeed inflicting more injury to the already wounded craft.

"You will not take us today!" Ztar yelled at the spasming shuttle. He had one more blast left and he dug deep for every bit of power his body could muster. Then just as the shuttle turned its nose toward the desert, he released his last energy, sending the shuttle into the rocks once again. He collapsed to his hands and knees, the world whirling violently around him.

Warren swooped down at the struggling craft, counting in his head. 'One thousand three, one thousand two,' he dropped the weapon on the roof of the shuttle and raced away with a worried look to Ztar who was on all fours on the ground. He prayed the shuttle wouldn't fire in the next couple seconds at an apparently helpless Turzent. 'One thousand one…one thousand!'

The explosion was quite spectacular and its shockwave pushed Warren through the air, but he managed to maintain controlled flight. The force of the blast punched the craft straight down a couple hundred feet into the desert floor with tremendous force. There was no explosion, but everyone inside likely would be either severely injured or dead.

Warren landed next to Ztar and immediately sat down on the hot sand, his injured body parts screaming. He gulped air and lowered his head to keep the world from spinning so much. The intensity of the sun and heat on the desert floor added to his misery.

"Thanks, my Archangel," the Emperor said weakly, shifting slowly into a sitting position. "That was quick thinking."

The Turzent was trembling from head to toe and looked like the life was sucked out of him. "You were equally impressive." Warren offered, his physical distress coming through in his shaky voice. All he wanted to do was lie down until the pain stopped.

"We're fortunate their shields were off-line, otherwise the outcome would have been very different." Then concern crossed Ztar's face. "You're still in much pain." Their empathic link transmitted Archangel's suffering. 'When I capture those responsible for this…' he told himself with visions of delicious revenge running through his mind.

"I just need a few minutes." Actually, he needed more than that. An ice cold glass of water would be a good start. Then some shade from the blazing sun. Or maybe a dip in the pool back at his aerie. His mind lingered with those pleasant images as they sat quietly recovering. Then reality came knocking. They were still in a precarious situation with no rescue in sight.

Warren slowly got to his feet, unable to stifle a deep groan. "I'll be right back, Ztar. I want to check out our friends," he explained dragging himself toward the shuttle.

"You should rest," Ztar said to Archangel's back, not sure he could move yet.

"We need to know those guys are out of commission," he replied, not bothering to turn toward the Emperor. Each step was an effort, but they needed to be certain no danger lurked in the shuttle.

Approaching the wreckage cautiously, Warren focused his senses on detecting any signs of life. No movement or sound emanated from the craft. As he neared the hatch, he heard something behind him and turned quickly.

"What are you doing? Catch your breath; we may need your energy blasts again at any time. You can bet these guys called for help," Warren scolded.

"You may need my help here," Ztar insisted.

Warren just shook his head and examined the shuttle. The hatch was popped by several inches. With no sounds from inside, Warren crept toward the door. "Do you sense anyone alive inside?" he asked the telepath.

Ztar was quiet for two heartbeats. "Alive, yes. Conscious, no. Two minds. One seems comatose, the other merely unconscious. Could be others, though, still wearing the headgear."

"Likely everyone is at least unconscious. Let's see if we can get this hatch open and find something useful," and Warren put his hand to the control panel. Nothing. Not so much as a squeak. "Great."

"Allow me," Ztar offered stepping up to the door. Grabbing hold of the door edge, he pulled with all his considerable strength. At first it seemed the door was hopelessly jammed, but then it started to give way. Creaking and groaning, the hatch finally gave up its fight, let go, and slammed into the ground at their feet.

Warren raised his eyebrows at the Turzent. "You're handy to have around. Next time I need a can opener, I'll call you," he said grinning.

Ztar smirked as they poked their heads inside. Some snapping and sizzling of dying circuits along with wisps of smoke greeted them, but nothing else. They moved inside. The scene wasn't pretty. Four dead bodies and two living. Warren and Ztar checked over the two still breathing.

"This one may make it," Ztar said, "but likely only with immediate medical care."

Warren looked over the other breather, the airways sounded gurgly; never a good sign. "Not sure about this one. I've got the one in the coma, right?" Ztar nodded. "Nothing we can do, unfortunately. Let's see what we can find for weapons, water, whatever, but we need to make it fast."

They quickly scoured the craft and came up with several phase weapons; emergency supply pouches complete with water, nutrient bars, emergency beacons, comlinks, thermal cloths; and various other items that would aid survival. They both took a few gulps of water before gathering up their scavenged loot.

"Should we try the shuttle's comlink?" Warren wondered.

"Worth checking. We'll know quickly if it's operable."

Ztar stepped over a body to reach the comm panel and worked the controls. After a few seconds, he sighed.

"I take it the news is not good."

"No," he answered simply. "Let's get out of here and find some cover. Then we can look over what we have more closely and come up with a strategy," Ztar suggested.

Warren concurred, but still had concerns about hunting parties. "Won't they just scan for us?"

"Yes, but no sense making it any easier."

Warren only nodded. By the time they exited the shuttle, he was feeling better and rolled his shoulders and rotated his arm to check progress. There was sharp pain, but nothing like before.

"Healed?" Ztar inquired.

"Getting there." He gave his wings a sharp flap and ruffle. "God, I hate sand beneath the feathers!" he announced in irritation. "It'll take forever to get it all out." Every movement that rubbed the granules against the sensitive wing membrane set his teeth on edge. 'Enough complaining,' he scolded himself. 'Just be glad you're alive to be irritated.'

"I'm going up a ways and see what options we have." One strong beat and he was airborne, the extra gravitational tug immediately evident once again. Warren put his amazing eyesight to work and scanned the area. It all looked the same for as far as he could see and that was a long way given the clarity of the air. The only thing stopping his gaze was the curvature of the planet. No sign of civilization, water, vegetation – nothing. 'Jesus!'

After a second scrutiny, he spied a cave at the base of a nearby mesa. With no other reasonable options, that looked like their best choice. He landed.

"About a twenty-minute walk from here is a cave. Hopefully, it's cooler than out here." Warren gave Ztar a mischievous look. "Or I could fly you over if you haven't sworn off taking to the air."

Ztar gestured with his hands a flat-out rejection of the offer. "I will keep my feet solidly on the ground, my Archangel. It's not everyday one jumps off a cliff." He was amazed at himself for having done just that. Grabbing up their booty bag, he started in the direction Archangel indicated.

"Then I'll sacrifice my tender tootsies and walk with you." Warren looked down at his bare peds. "If I get thorns or blisters, it's your fault." With that, he fell in behind the chuckling Turzent, the hot sand threatening to burn his soles.

### --- ###

As they lost contact with the last shuttle, visions of Renia taunted Jmaricz. It didn't help that the Head Researcher stood directly behind him fuming, having witnessed the loss of their last pursuit team. Three shuttle's worth of his guards went silent one at a time; picked off like so many gentsens in a hunt. He had options, though; Renia would not be his fate.

"Well trained?" she hissed into his ear flap. "That was our last team, correct?" Now she wished she'd gotten to the security office sooner rather than dealing with Migiun, helping her staff recover from the mental assaults inflicted by the telepaths, and determining new containment procedures for their subjects upon recapture.

"Yes." He tried not to sound too humiliated.

"And all three shuttles are inoperable?"

"From their last transmitted readings, yes. The Turzent and the human will not be leaving the planet in any of them. I will retrieve your subjects, Researcher." He was already forming a new strategy.

Hercjell stepped away from the security control station as Jmaricz pushed back his chair and swung around to face her.

"I warned you about underestimating the Emperor," she reminded with no sense of guilt in doing so.

"And I did not. Ztar was cornered and nearly recaptured on the mesa according to L'keptchka. What we underestimated was the human. I don't recall any warnings about him." He'd not let Hercjell off the hook on that. "Neither did I see anything the security briefing on the Emperor's companion to explain the skills my guards reported today," he accused in his best tone and facial expression to imply negligence.

"He's a simple _companion_, Jmaricz. His skills lie in the bedchamber. What was there to know?" Hercjell was also perplexed, though. Yes, the medical records suggested the human had some combat experience, but it was a side note. What hadn't _she_ been told? Had their superiors withheld information or did they not know? What other surprises would this Archangel present?

"The human is as far from a simple companion as an Ozjaerian peasant is from an imperial warrior. What my guards reported confirms he has significant fighting and tactical skills – something I should have been told. If not for the human, we would have recaptured the Emperor on the mesa. And if the so-called simple companion had actually been that, his retrieval would have been a straightforward snag and tag operation. I cannot be held responsible for faulty intel." He was not going to take the blame for the thus far botched recovery.

"We all deal with unknowns everyday, Jmaricz. You should have taken that into account when you sent your guards out after the subjects."

"Just as you should have anticipated the unknowns and properly restrained the Emperor so I wouldn't have _needed_ to send out my guards." He smiled. 'Got you with your own words, bitch.'

'Child's mistake!' Hercjell said angrily to herself. She'd left herself wide open to that. 'Time for a strategic truce.'

"Officer, I believe we were both hampered by less than complete information, whether intentional or otherwise." She'd give him something to gnaw on other than her. "May I suggest that we focus on the immediate crisis? Our test subjects are on the loose, but still contained on the planet. We can work together to rectify the situation or waste energy on blame games. I prefer our superiors come away with a report that states we collaborated on a successful retrieval operation."

Jmaricz eyed the head researcher carefully. She was a slippery one and he trusted her no further than he could track her in an Ymoz dust storm – about three paces. Yet the best way to come out of this with a decent future was to recapture the escapees. Working together may be to his benefit. "Agreed."

"Then what is our next step?"

"We change tactics. They want to get a message out – that will continue to be their single focus. Not only is the sector comm blocked, but I made certain the shuttle interstellar comlinks were disabled before sending them out – double insurance. And the ditched skimmer's comm goes through our relay. To get a message out, it has to be through our equipment here. That is their vulnerability and our opportunity."

"So, you're proposing…" she prompted.

"They have to come here. Let them make the next move – we prepare and wait."

Hercjell was disappointed in that strategy. "Why not send another shuttle, scan for them, and then hit them with a wide-spread phase or concussion blast and be done with it?" she suggested. 'How difficult can this be?' she riled silently.

Jmaricz bristled. Maybe working together was a mistake. Scientists were not soldiers. "First, our shuttles are not equipped with concussion cannons. Second, my orders are quite explicit – the human is not to be seriously injured. If that hadn't been the case, my guards would have shot him out of the sky and made this _so-o_ much easier. You didn't think my guards are that bad a shot, did you?" He didn't wait for a reply as an instinct nudged him. "There's something more about the human you know that I do not," he accused.

"Your orders make sense. If the human is killed, the technology inside him is lost. We cannot risk that. But the human heals at a near miraculous rate. It would take more than a stun hit and a fall from the sky to kill him."

Jmaricz narrowed his eyes at the researcher. How much else was withheld from him? Was this whole operation based on half-truths and censored information? Now he was even angrier and he rose to emphasize that point. This insult of omission he would not take sitting down. "I'm first hearing this now?"

"You didn't know about that?" Hercjell again was perplexed. It was becoming glaringly apparent that either someone screwed up royally in briefing Jmaricz or had for some unfathomable reason felt it unnecessary to provide a full disclosure on the human.

"The report merely indicated he heals quickly, not that he'd survive that kind of injury." There was so much more he could have said, but not in the middle of a crisis. Time for accusations and rebuttals would come soon enough, but someone had much to answer to. "Since it is apparent that Security was not trusted with all the information to properly perform our assignment, we cannot be held accountable for the bungled retrieval. That will be clearly stated in my report. At this moment, however, we need to remain focused on the task at hand."

Hercjell understood just how furious the head of security likely was. She would be, too. But it changed nothing about their current problem. "I concur. The simplest approach is to stun them with a widespread phase blast and be done with it," she suggested. "Quick and easy. I see no logical reason to wait for them to make a move knowing what you now know."

Jmaricz crossed his arms. He didn't like the Head Researcher's tone. Nothing about this situation was quick and easy. "Perhaps you'd like to take over Security on this operation." He hated to make the threat, but at this rate, he didn't see how it could hurt his career any more than the current fiasco.

Hercjell was being cornered. Jmaricz could do as he threatened – relinquish command. It had been done before. Likely, he'd get a few less than desirable assignments for awhile, but then continue his career relatively unscathed long-term. It was one of the two-edged swords to being in her position as Head Researcher. Security could be passed to that position in times of crisis ensuring one voice as ultimate authority. And with the Etagllot being an organization of scientists first and foremost, that one voice would never be security. Hercjell saw very little advantage to her taking over for Jmaricz at this juncture.

"Officer Jmaricz," she began smoothly, "I have every confidence in your abilities to manage security for this facility and retrieve the subjects. It was wrong that vital information was withheld from you and it has hampered you. But what is done, is done. We can stand here all day and make power moves, or we can work as a team. I was simply offering a suggestion. The decision on how to proceed is yours entirely."

He studied her closely for several moments, letting the silence speak for him. Then he sighed audibly. "Very well. But just so you are clear on one point, I follow orders. Those commands state the human is not to be seriously harmed. Unless you are countermanding, I will not be using any phase blasts directly against him. I have no information on the affect phase energy has on his species and will not risk it. Unless of course you know more on that than I'm privy to." Jmaricz gave the scientist a suspicious squint.

Hercjell realized Jmaricz had a point. Some species can be killed with as little as a stun setting from a phase gun. It had to do with an adverse neurological reaction to the phased energy that sometimes led to immediate brain death as synaptic activity halted. Nothing in the files told her whether that was the case with Archangel or his species in general. She could have it checked, but that would take time requiring a bypass of the communication lockout. On the other hand, Archangel's healing abilities should allow him to recover quickly. Then again…

"I don't believe a stun hit would seriously injure or kill the human, but I have no proof. If you can retrieve the subjects without using that kind of force, I see it as a logical precaution."

"Just to be clear, there are no such orders concerning the Turzent."

Hercjell nodded. "But I do want him alive. My work depends on it."

"I will attempt to accommodate, but the human is top priority. Those are the orders." He leaned back against the control desk. "We've tried the direct approach and that failed. This time we let them to come to us. We have want they want – communications. Let's see what the vaunted Emperor Ztar comes up with. They won't wait long – thirst is also a powerful driver."

"They'll have the emergency supplies from the shuttles, unless you removed those."

Jmaricz shook his head. He hadn't thought of it, but little matter. "The heat will make short work of the small amount of water in those rations."

"What about gas grenades or shock bombs? Surely there are other options for rendering them unconscious."

"Time is on our side, Researcher. They'll hesitate about returning to the facility; it's our stronghold. Let them wear down physically and become desperate. They'll come to us – you can be sure of that. We wait them out." As he finished, something flickered across the scientist's face.

"Actually, we've got only a couple days."

"What are you talking about?"

She cringed internally. By rights, she should have informed the security head as soon as Dityce had left, but did not. She'd been too focused on scrambling to make the most of the three days she'd been given to finish with Ztar. "Dityce is returning to take the Emperor in less than two standard days."

Jmaricz was almost beyond words. "And when was I going to be informed of _that_?!"

"My apologies, Officer." She'd swallow her pride to get through the immediate circumstances. "In the rush to finish up my work involving the Turzent, I failed to inform you. I take full responsibility for that lapse."

How the situation could get any more preposterous Jmaricz couldn't image, but he had a job to do and he'd get it done in spite of the obstacles that just kept coming. His pride and reputation were on the line. "Two days. That changes my tactics. If you'll excuse me, Researcher, I need to talk with my second. Your deadline reduces our options. I will inform you when I've a strategy," he said dismissively. Collaboration be damn. He'd go it alone or not at all. Everywhere he looked, information had been withheld from him, so from this point forward he'd take nothing for granted and trust no one.

Hercjell backed off. She'd gain nothing by pressing further. Jmaricz was as motivated as she to retrieve the subjects. Rather than hovering over him, she'd concentrate on ensuring she came out of this in good standing regardless of how the situation ultimately played out. Best for her future to allow Jmaricz to succeed or fail on his own.

As Hercjell left the security center, Jmaricz commed his second in command. He had the framework for a plan – something he'd used in another escapee situation a few years back involving a telepath. Worked then and hopefully would again. He just needed the right bait.

### --- ###

As they trudged toward their goal, thirst nagged at them, but they decided to wait until after their short hike to drink. Exerting themselves under the hot sun, coupled with the constant weight of the stronger gravity, quickly added to the fatigue. When their destination came into view, Ztar and Warren were more than ready to sit and rest, tender soles protesting the abuse loudly.

"I'm surprised we haven't seen any more hunting parties," Warren commented, scanning the sky for what seemed like the hundredth time.

Stepping inside the shallow cave brought immediate relief from the late day heat. It wasn't cool by any means, but likely ten to fifteen degrees cooler at the back of the shallow cave than outside. They collapsed to the ground and leaned against the cave wall.

"Why hurry?" Ztar asked. "We're stranded out here with little food and water and no place to go. They'll take their time and not rush into another confrontation. We did take out three of their shuttles after all!" Ztar couldn't help but smile with satisfaction at that victory.

Warren remained quiet. Ztar was right. They had no where to go. In fact, if they waited long enough, they'd be unconscious from dehydration – easy pickings.

Ztar dug out a water punch, opened it, and handed it to Warren. He drank deeply and passed it back to the Turzent who took several gulps of the warm liquid before resealing.

"We need to ration that," Warren said knowing he didn't have to. Ztar didn't reply, but just watched Warren with an odd expression. "We'll survive this, Ztar," he felt compelled to say.

"The question is how. We need a plan." Ztar was hot, tired, and sore from head to toe from their crash landing. Thinking was becoming more of an effort as the situation dragged out. That'd be one of the side affects he'd count on if he were Etagllot security. Let your quarry wear down and wait for them to make a mistake as desperation grows. He and Archangel needed a plan before they reached that point.

They laid out everything they'd taken from the shuttle.

"Do you think we dare try this comlink?" Warren asked holding up the device. Ztar knew more about that technology than he did.

Ztar's expression wasn't encouraging. "Likely it's pre-tuned to any rescue stations on the planet. Odds are that's where we just escaped from."

"And forget the rescue beacon, it'd lead them right to us," Warren added. "That leaves the items meant to get you by until help arrives. Unfortunately for us, that could be a very long time. More hunting parties, yes. Help, not so likely," he sighed.

"I see two options. We either wait for outside rescue or we create our own rescue."

Warren nodded. "No other options. So if we wait, that means we must believe that someone is looking for us and will find us before we run out of water. I think we can be pretty confident that someone has noticed our absence." Then Warren caught himself. He really had no idea how long they'd been in the hands of the Etagllot. "Do you know how many days we've been here?"

"About six, and Migiun believed we were taken perhaps two days prior to arriving here."

"They're looking for us by now unless the Etagllot cooked up one hell of a good cover story."

"I can imagine no lie or cover story that Gtar-Cro would accept. No, he's looking for us."

"They could have faked our deaths," Warren pointed out as he tore open a packet of emergency rations, handing one of the wafer-like bars to Ztar. The Emperor's face suddenly reflected some doubt. "But since we don't know how our captors covered our disappearance, we'll go with they know we're missing and are looking." He quickly added, trying to reassure, then took a bite of the bar. "Not bad," he noted between chews.

"I trust Gtar-Cro's instincts. Even if they faked our deaths, he'll sense something's not right. He has vast resources at his disposal, and he knows about the Etagllot. If anyone can find us, it is the General." Ztar didn't want to dwell on the possibility that Archangel presented and didn't want the human too, either. 'Gtar-Cro _will_ find us,' Ztar told himself firmly.

Warren leaned his head back against the rock. "Okay, so we assume MI is looking. Could be awhile. It's a big galaxy."

Ztar closed his eyes. It would be so easy to give in to the fatigue. "How I wished my telepathy was unlimited. Everything would be so much easier."

Warren chuckled, pulling his head off the wall. "And how I wish I could teleport. That'd also make things easier. But alas, neither of us is going to get our wish. So that leaves us with creating our own escape." He took another mouthful of bar, realizing he was ravenous.

Both were quiet for a couple of minutes, lost in their thoughts.

"How _did_ you get around the psychic dampeners exactly?" Warren asked. He had been thinking about their escape from the compound.

"I've developed some techniques over the years to circumvent their affect. It seems a portion my telepathy is able to operate despite their interference, but I'm extremely limited in what I can do. For example, my range is only a few paces and it must be a mind that is open to me, no active psychic barriers. It really helps if that mind is telepathic, like Migiun's. I can't forcibly control anyone or perform deep probes, and psychic blasts are impossible."

"But you were drugged. How did you manage to be conscious enough to use your telepathy?" Warren still couldn't figure out how Ztar did what he did.

Ztar cocked his head. "You don't remember our telepathic conversation about this, do you?"

"What conversation?"

"In the mental construct – our first contact…"

Warren shook his head. "Sorry, Ztar."

"Likely a side affect of the drugs. Most of my brain was unconscious, but part was not and I regained a form of consciousness. Don't ask for specifics on how – I have no explanation. However it is that I can do that, I wasn't able to do so immediately. It took me time to become aware enough to use my limited telepathy and then connect with you and Migiun."

"So despite the dampeners, you were able to probe her?"

Ztar nodded. "As long as she submitted willingly and was within a few feet of me, I could do a shallow probe sufficient to confirm she was not happy to be working for the Etagllot. They are using her family to ensure her cooperation. Migiun was also deeply opposed to the kidnapping of her emperor."

"So she allowed you to use her."

"Yes. She gave me access to her mind to augment her abilities with mine. When linked with her, I could operate much more freely since her telepathic signature was not blocked by the dampeners."

"But won't they find out? Use another telepath to scan her; then punish her and her family or worse?" Warren was fearful for their liberator.

"They will but find I've erased her memories of the past many days leaving nothing to hold against her. It was part of our bargain."

"Thank God for Migiun. We owe her a huge debt."

"And once we've escaped, one I fully intend to repay."

"Speaking of escapes, a plan is needed," Warren reminded taking another bite of food.

"We need to get a message out. That means going back to the facility," Ztar said with a sigh. He did not want to go back into the Etagllot's stronghold.

Warren thought that over. "Sneak back in and send our SOS? Plausible. Risky, but a possibility. They'll be expecting that, though."

"Definitely."

Warren shifted trying to get comfortable on the hard ground. Leaning back against the rocks wasn't cutting it either. He recognized the symptoms – battle mode antsyness. Just sitting wasn't setting well. "We could just take over the whole goddamn place. Between you, me, and Migiun, we could do it! Mindblast every one of the bastards and call Gtar-Cro. Then we put our feet up, nice and comfy, and wait for the Calvary to arrive." Warren liked the idea more and more. Out of the heat, a shower, real food…

Ztar didn't like the idea one bit. The Etagllot were a far more dangerous an opponent than Archangel realized. Their escape was nothing less than a miracle – one made possible only because of Migiun. He shook his head. "You're forgetting the dampeners will be back on line. No, my Archangel, I will not risk our liberty unless we've no alternative. Do not underestimate our enemy."

Warren sat forward. "You surprise me. I think you underestimate _us_. Getting out of there was almost a cakewalk." Warren paused as a thought hit him. "We should have taken over the place when we had the chance. Why didn't we? That's when we were at our strongest!"

Ztar looked away from Archangel and stared out the cave opening to the desert beyond. Migiun had proposed the same scenario and Ztar refused then, too. The risks of remaining within the lair of the monster were too great, he told her. The probable nearby Etagllot ship, the number of Etagllot to deal with, their advanced technology that could possibly render them defenseless at any time, all added to his desire to simply run. But perhaps it was more than that. Perhaps it was his deep-seated trauma and fears that drove him to put as much distance as he could between them and their captors.

He turned back to his companion. "My war against the Etagllot 15 years ago taught me many things. First and foremost to not become over-confident or believe you have the upper hand. It was best for us to make our escape as quickly as possible and not dally within their walls. I prefer we face them out here in the desert where they are stripped of many of their weapons and technology. This is a much more defensible position than facing the Etagllot in their base."

Warren was watching Ztar during his explanation. The body language said things the words did not – uncertainty, maybe even fear. How much was Ztar's horrifying experience with the Etagllot augmentation influencing his decision to flee versus fight?

"I don't necessarily agree with you, but what is done, is done. What matters now is getting a message to Gtar-Cro. Doing that is just a bit more challenging from out here."

Ztar shook his head in disgust. His one big mistake – not determining ahead of time the status of skimmer comlink. Signal blocks he could work around, but hardwired comm mods he could not change, especially without tools. 'Incompetent!' he riled at himself. "Storming the Etagllot facility is a possibility, but my past experience tells me it would be more foolhardy than we realize. They've had time to prepare while we sit here."

"What about nabbing a shuttle? Transportation would be nice, even if we stay planet side or its comm doesn't work. It would gain us survival time. I always prefer flying over hoofing it," Warren added with a wiggle of his sore feet. "Maybe we could find water. Do you know, is the whole planet like this?"

"Sadly, yes, accordingly to Migiun. The only source of food and water is the Etagllot facility."

"Damn." A remote and barren planet – the perfect prison. "But that assumes she actually knows and not just repeating what the Etagllot told her."

"Good point." Ztar shifted, trying to ease the discomfort of the rocky ground. "If we take a shuttle, we must make certain its comm is functional. Our primary goal has to be getting a message out."

"I don't see many options. We either take over the facility or nab a shuttle with a working interstellar comm. The idea of waiting for a rescue that may or may not come doesn't appeal. I prefer the pro-active approach in situations like these."

The Emperor nodded. Right now, Ztar couldn't think of any other viable options, yet being proactive would increase their odds of being recaptured sooner as opposed to later. And if they were retaken and the nannites activated before rescue arrived…the mere thought struck fear in him. He would not lose Archangel to Death.

Warren eyed the Turzent. Warren was certain Ztar was withholding something, but decided not to press. It also concerned him that Ztar had yet to take even one bite of his rations bar. "Ztar, you should eat. You need to keep up your strength," Warren encouraged.

"I have little appetite."

Warren frowned. "How could you not be hungry? It's been probably eight days since we've had real food. God only knows what they pumped into us to keep us alive, but it wasn't food. You need to eat. If you don't, I'm taking that bar from you and eating it myself. I, for one, am starving." Warren knew that'd get a chuckle from Ztar and it did. It also produced the deserved results as Ztar bit into the bar.

Ztar's words ran through his head again. 'How I wished my telepathy was unlimited.' Wait a minute… Warren sat up straight. "Ztar, the dampeners…do you suppose those extend out beyond the section of the facility where we were kept?"

"I'm not sure. Usually those are installed in sensitive areas only or where telepaths are expected to be present or attempt to infiltrate."

"So other areas of the facility may be not protected."

Ztar sat forward. "The Etagllot likely consider the whole base to be highly sensitive and have blanketed the entire area."

"Can you reach out and determine if that's the case?"

"I can." Ztar closed his eyes and expanded his mind toward the facility. He immediately felt the odd nothingness that was the signature of dampeners at work, like a black hole of psychic energy. He pushed passed that to scan the edges and perimeters of the hole. Sure enough, he touched a couple minds. Carefully, though, as to not tip off any sensitives to his mental presence.

"Well?" Warren asked after a minute.

Ztar reopened his eyes. "We're in luck. A few of the outlying areas of the base aren't protected, including the shuttle building."

"Shuttles?"

"One."

Warren grinned. "Then we need to find a maintenance person or someone who can take it out for a spin."

"I like the way you think, my Archangel." Ztar returned the mischievous smile. This idea held much more appeal than returning to the facility.

Ztar stretched out his consciousness again toward the Etagllot facility, skirting the edge of the dampened areas. A few minds were present in the periphery areas. Now he just needed to find the right person. Within a minute, he had just the one – a maintenance technician who had just finished minor repairs on the shuttle and was prepping it for a search and retrieve mission. While the technician didn't know who was being hunted, Ztar knew. He squelched his anger.

"I've got one," Ztar announced.

"Already?" Warren was skeptical that was so easy.

"Yes, and I know what you're thinking, Archangel. Too easy. Don't worry, I'm scanning for any signs that our target may be a lure." Ztar was silent for a few moments. "If this is a trap, and likely it is, it's also highly probable he's unaware he's being used. I'll scan more thoroughly when closer – the tech is too far away for a deep probe. I found no knowledge of the shuttle's comm being modified or disabled, but that needs to be verified."

"I think we need to go ahead regardless. We've few options."

"Agreed." With that, Ztar put their plan in motion. The technician, an untrained mind, had no idea that his next thought was not his own – take the shuttle out for a test flight to confirm he performed the repairs correctly. Once airborne, Ztar kept the technician checking the sensors for any signs of pursuit.

The waiting was interminable. Ztar said not a word as he increased control over the technician as the distance closed. Finally, Warren could hear the approaching craft. As it settled to the ground some distance away kicking up dust, Ztar "returned" and looked at him.

"I'm going to probe our friend more deeply than I could from a distance to recheck for anything on the comm system." Ztar prayed he'd find nothing amiss. He reached further into the tech's mind. Suddenly, he found knowledge that made his heart beat faster. 'One step at a time,' he warned himself. One little additional task, then back to the work at hand.

"I find nothing in the technician's mind to indicate they've rerouted or sabotaged the comlink system in this craft. So far, everything indicates it should be fully functional. I can't find any knowledge of traps either – doesn't mean there aren't any. The Etagllot are very ingenious. I'm doing a systems check next."

Warren nodded as he remained seated on the floor of the cave. He'd let Ztar do his work without interruption. What he really wanted to do was pace off the building nervous energy, but that would be distracting. Instead, he rifled through their booty bag meaninglessly and considered various scenarios.

Ztar had the technician go through the routine of opening and closing the hatch and other actions that may trigger booby traps or trip a signal as he watched safely from the cave. Running various diagnostics to search for atypical subroutines in the shuttle's programs was next, and finally a check and recheck that the comlink was functional. Finally, he puppeted the technician to ready the shuttle for immediate take-off.

Ztar looked to Archangel who was obviously antsy, fidgeting with the contents of their bag of loot. "I've done everything I can think of to ensure the shuttle is safe, but extreme caution is needed."

Warren rose. He was more than ready to do something, anything. "Still makes me nervous," Warren declared, snatching up their booty bag. "Likely a trap."

They ducked out of the cave and headed cautiously toward the idling shuttle.

"I agree. This doesn't feel right, but right now we've few options."

They walked in silence the rest of the way, both thinking through possibilities of the assumed trap.

"You could have our friend inside send the message and not go inside." Warren looked over at the Turzent when a few feet from the craft.

They came to a halt in front of the open hatch. "True. Or we could ignore caution and step inside," Ztar counteroffered as he peered through the open hatch.

"We want the shuttle regardless, right? What the hell. Let's just grab it and run. I'll go first – you wait out here in case I trip a booby trap."

Warren snapped his wings hard hoping to shed more irritating sand, then eased through the hatch on high alert. Nothing. He eyed the technician warily. The man did not move a muscle. Ztar clearly had tight control over his mind. He scanned the shuttle, moved around, touched the control panel – still nothing. He signaled Ztar to enter. "Now or never."

Ztar warily stepped in. After inducing deep sleep in the technician, Ztar moved into the pilot's seat and activated the hatch.

"Shouldn't we ditch the maintenance tech?" Warren asked concerned about having an Etagllot on board.

Suddenly, Warren's keen hearing picked up a nearly undetectable hissing sound – it seemed out of place amongst the other shuttle sounds. All his years of experience and well-honed instincts shouted the alarm.

"Ztar! Stop the hatch!"

Ztar's hands flew to the control. No response. "By the gods!"

Warren jumped to the door and pushed against it with every ounce of his strength to prevent it from moving the last several inches to seal them in. His feet slid across the floor as the hatch defied him. Ztar called up his energy field as he sprang out of the seat.

"Now!" Warren cried.

As Archangel leapt aside, Ztar let loose a blast that shook the shuttle down to its landing pads. Kaboo-o-o-m!! The door slammed open violently hitting the ground as gears and hinges gave way under the impact.

In the same instant, Warren began feeling the effects of whatever odorless gas was being released into the shuttle. Looking at Ztar, he was also quickly succumbing. With his last coherent thought, Warren grabbed the Turzent and lunged through the open hatchway. Then blackness.

When Warren came to, his heart lurched. Danger! He sprang to his feet, still shaky. Ztar was unconscious on the ground. How long had he been out? Hopefully, not more than a minute.

Straining his ears and scanning the skies, he saw and heard nothing. Yet. It may only be a matter of moments before that changed. Warren dragged the unconscious Turzent back into the shuttle. It was still their best option for escape. Hopefully, that was the end of the booby traps.

He propped the Emperor up against the side of the shuttle. "Ztar, wake up! You need to fly this thing!"

Ztar moaned and moved slowly. "Come on, shake it off. Now, Ztar," he ordered loudly, trying to cut through the drug fog the Emperor was shrouded in. While Ztar rose to consciousness, Warren examined the damaged hatch. Would it seal? Not likely. They may have lost orbital capabilities. 'Damn it all to hell!' he swore silently.

'Archangel?' The mushy-feeling word slipped into his head.

Warren returned to Ztar's side. It was becoming apparent Ztar wouldn't be operating the shuttle anytime soon and they needed to get moving. "Ztar, listen to me carefully. Put into my mind how to fly this thing. You need to do it now," he demanded, giving Ztar a good shake of the shoulder.

'What?' Warren could feel the confusion in Ztar's question.

"Show me how to fly the shuttle. Right now. How do I get this thing into the air?"

Warren was quiet for several seconds and nearly spoke again when he felt Ztar's mental presence. Like magic, knowledge came to him. Sluggishly, but it still came. Warren dove into the pilot's seat and activated the hatch control. The lift and seal mechanisms squeaked and groaned as it attempted to draw in the door. No go. "Goddamn son of a bitch!"

Warren jumped from the seat and over to the hatch. He reached down, grasped the manual door lever, and pulled with all his considerable strength. Resisting all the way, he finally convinced the door into its upright position and as tightly closed as he could manage. Now if they would be just lucky enough that the closing mechanism would take it from there.

Back in the pilot's seat, he punched the control panel to close the door. More groaning and squeaking. Then a warning message flashed on the viewscreen – Hatch Seal Failure. 'Damn! Worry about it later,' he told himself.

Working the helm, Warren lifted the shuttle off and darted into the sky, warnings urgently proclaiming that the door was ajar. In the air with no particular destination, Warren simply headed in the opposite direction of the Etagllot facility. Ztar stirred behind him.

"Waking up back there?" he asked, glancing around his left wing to where Ztar sat on the floor.

"I think so," the reply was thick and slow. "Drugs?"

"Yep, apparently some kind of gas."

Warren turned his attention back to working the barely familiar controls. "When you're able, I need you up here."

A minute later, Warren heard sounds of Ztar struggling to his feet. Then a very shaky Emperor sat down heavily in the co-pilot's seat with a groan.

"How you doing?" he asked stealing a look over at the Turzent.

"Functioning," Ztar said as though he wasn't all that convinced. "You did well."

Something caught Warren's attention on a display screen. "We have company."

"Definitely another shuttle."

"All ideas are welcome," Warren prompted.

"We need to get into space."

"No can do. Hatch is busted," Warren replied as he pushed the shuttle into a faster pace. "You just get that message out and I'll keep us ahead of our tail."

"They're blocking outbound signals at the sector comm itself," he informed Archangel as a wave of wooziness washed through him.

Warren shot Ztar a startled look. "_What_? But I thought you said the comlink was functioning?" This was very bad news!

Ztar's thought processes were clearing, but still a touch fuzzy. "The _shuttle_ comm is functioning, but the sector comm has been tampered with – it's relaying inbound signals only."

"Shit, Ztar, if that's the case, we can't send a message passed this sector. When do you learn that?" Another look at the Emperor revealed the man didn't seem as disappointed about that fact as he should be. "Okay, Emperor, what gives? What aren't you telling me?"

Ztar managed a grin. "I have access to a highly classified system within the comlink network – a ghost comm of sorts. The Etagllot shouldn't know about it and shouldn't be blocking it. As long as this shuttle's comlink is functioning, we should get a signal out."

Warren sighed. "God, I hope you're right about that."

"Now I need to make a few modifications to the signal output. That will take a couple minutes."

While Ztar worked the communication controls, Warren spied what looked like a dust storm. "Would that interfere with scanners?" he asked.

Ztar looked out. "It may, depending on the composition of the sand and dust."

"Worth a try, as long as I don't crash us into the side of the mesa!"

"Always the reassuring one," Ztar managed a bit of humor despite his rolling stomach.

Warren dove the shuttle down into the storm, hoping that whoever was on their tail would have more difficulty following them. Of course, that made for a much rougher ride as the shuttle bounced through the turbulence. Making an abrupt course change, he watched with disappointment when sensors indicated their pursuers followed suit. "Damn, not working."

As Ztar swayed back and forth in his chair trying to focus on the comm controls, he moaned. "My Archangel, I'm going to be sick if we stay here much longer."

Warren glanced at the Emperor. 'Yep, pretty green. Must be the aftereffects of the drug.' He eased the shuttle up and out of the shroud of the wind-driven sand.

Their pursuers continued to gain ground. 'Faster shuttle. Figures – the Etagllot wouldn't let their best shuttle be bait.' He looked at the Turzent as he deftly worked the comlink controls. "Modifications done?"

"Working," was the only word Ztar risked or he may have lost his stomach contents right then.

Warren watched with growing concern as their pursuers inexorably closed the gap.

The Emperor sat back from the controls. "Done. Now we wait to see if the message is accepted and relayed."

"No two-way signal?"

"No. I sent a single-burst emergency declaration, which both Gtar-Cro and the Rehsaw should receive in moments."

"Ztar, we have a problem. Our tail has a turbocharged vehicle. We need to figure out next move."

"Agreed."

"If only we could get off this dirtball planet. Oh, and a ship would be nice," Warren said with wishful thinking. "One with a hot shower, lots of food, a soft bed..."

"Food is _second_ on your list?" Ztar teased, not taking his eyes off the comlink display.

"_Lots_ of food."

"The soft bed – that's at the top of my list," Ztar glanced away from the display and smiled salaciously at his companion.

"Jesus, Ztar, is your mind ever not in the gutter?" That got a snicker.

"A ship, food, bed. _Anything_ else?"

"Hey, I don't think it's too much to ask for," he feigned bewilderment. Then Warren spied a twinkle in Ztar's eyes.

"How about a cozy Etagllot ship?" the Turzent queried with a devilish grin.

### --- ###

_An Etagllot ship? Isn't that _bad_ news? We'll have to wait until Chapter 7 to see how this plays out. I've gotten much of the near-final editing done, so hopefully I'll get the next installment posted very soon, barring annoying interruptions like eating, sleeping, and work. _

_And here's my standard plea for feedback – I live for it. Don't let me down. _

'_Til next time!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Okay, here is the next installment. Will our escaping duo make it? Be recaptured by the Etagllot ship? Did their distress signal get out or was it blocked? Read on for all the answers. _

**Chapter 7**

Hercjell thought she'd hyperventilate. "You used _who_ for the trap?"

"Technician Rotac'de. He was the most reasonable choice."

Hercjell didn't believe in gods, but if there were any, they'd be laughing. Of all the people for Jmaricz to put outside the dampening field in his baited trap for the telepathic Emperor. Rotac'de – the only other person planetside that knew of the Etagllot spaceship secretly parked in opposing orbit above Ymoz where facility sensors could not detect it. To be generous, Jmaricz wasn't privy to the Alpha Helix – Etagllot scientists hold some things very tight to their chest. Therefore, the fact that she had dragged Rotac'de to the ship to perform some rather sensitive data mining and purging from the Alpha Helix's computer wasn't something Jmaricz had any way of knowing.

"So now they have a shuttle," she pointed out in accusing tones to the security chief as they stood nearly toe-to-toe in the security room.

"My plan was sound. I cannot imagine how they detected the knockout gas. It should have rendered them unconscious without their ever knowing what was happening. But I did plan for that possibility, no matter how remote. The shuttle's weapons are disabled."

"And the comm?"

"For the trap to work, it had to be operational. I knew Ztar would manipulate Rotac'de to test the system. Ztar would not take the bait if he knew the comlink was disabled or tampered with."

"The shuttle has a _functioning_ comm?" she asked incredulously.

Jmaricz thought the researcher was going to explode. "Remember, the sector comm will not relay their transmission. It does them no good."

"And you don't think Ztar knows that?"

"Of course I assumed he does, but I believed the combination of a shuttle and a functioning comlink would still be too tempting given their dire situation. And I was right – they went for it. Ztar will attempt to bypass the blocks, but he'll find that impossible."

"There's more to it, Jmaricz. Ztar doesn't waste energy on targets that offer little gain. He has a plan – you can bet your life on it! Again, you underestimate him." Hercjell was livid. Did this man not understand with whom they were dealing?

"I don't see how!" he fired back. "They're in a weaponless shuttle. He has no access to long-range communications. We're in an isolated sector with no other habitable planets within shuttle range. They've nowhere to go. If we can't recapture them ourselves, all we have to do is call for the evac ship and they will pick them up."

"I need a shuttle and guards – immediately," she ordered, knowing it may be already too late to reach the Alpha Helix ahead of Ztar.

"We have no more, Researcher. Our last one is pursuing the escapees. I have skimmers," he offered, a puzzled look crossing his face. "Why do you need a shuttle?"

"You'll find out soon enough," she replied vaguely, quickly leaving the perplexed security chief to attempt to contact the ship, praying to whatever gods that might exist the Alpha Helix's psy-damps were fully engaged. Dityce's prophetic words rang tauntingly in her head as she raced down the corridor. "Each day the Emperor remains here increases the odds of the unpredictable happening." It burned her to the core that the man had turned out to be right.

### --- ###

"You've confirmed they have a ship?" It was as Ztar had said – the Etagllot usually have a ship nearby. Now escape to space was not an option – they'd be quickly recaptured.

"Yes. A small-class cruiser."

Warren eyed the telepath. "When did you found this out?"

"When I did the deeper scan of the tech," the Emperor explained, nodding his head toward the man sleeping soundly on the shuttle floor. "He's been onboard. It's called Alpha Helix."

"Where is it?"

"In orbit."

"We have Etagllots above us and below us. I feel the noose tightening, Ztar. So why are you smiling like a Cheshire cat?"

"Don't lose heart, my Archangel. This is a special ship. It only has one person on board. We can take it easily."

Warren's heart jumped with excitement only to immediately sink. "Ztar, maybe you were too out of it to remember, but we can't take the shuttle into orbit – the hatch won't seal."

"Just keep ahead of our pursuers and let me verify a small detail."

A tone sounded from the comm at that moment. "The ghost comm has received and relayed our message!" Ztar announced with enthusiasm.

Warren let out a whoop. "Thank god!"

"The gods are indeed with us. Now for the rest of our brilliant plan." Ztar smiled, easing out of his seat, noticeably steadier.

"We don't have a lot of time before we're in range of their weapons," he informed the Turzent. Warren attempted to activate the weapons and shield systems. "No go on the phase cannon or shields. Why am I not surprised?"

Ztar opened compartments until he found what he was looking for – lifesuits. The only question was whether or not Archangel's wings would fit inside. It would likely be tight, but Ztar was hopeful. Then reaching out his mind, he reconnected with the sole person aboard the Etagllot ship parked in geostationary orbit on the opposite side of Ymoz. As soon as he learned of the ship, he had latched onto that mind to put the female caretaker in freeze mode to ensure she did not respond to any outside communications. Now he instructed her to begin reawakening the ship.

"We need to put these on, Archangel."

Warren looked back and saw Ztar carrying what appeared to be spacesuits.

"They will protect us when we leave atmosphere."

### --- ###

A bridge officer on Gtar-Cro's ship suddenly swung around in his chair toward the captain. "Sir! We've received a direct-link distress call – from the Emperor!"

Captain Viis quickly strode over to her communication officer. "Confirmed?"

"Yes, Captain. The message contains Emperor Ztar's ident codes."

"Bring it up."

The officer swiveled back to the comm station and excitedly punched the controls to decode and display the message onto the viewscreen.

Viis leaned in to read the displayed text. "Get me the General."

### --- ###

Ztar slipped into the barely large enough lifesuit with difficulty. Then it was Warren's turn to don a suit with Ztar at the helm.

"We need our friend here to suit up, too."

As Warren expected, he had even more difficulty than Ztar. The garment was not designed for someone with large wings, but he managed. Thankfully, his feathered appendages were flexible enough to squeeze in, although uncomfortably. Small price to pay if they successfully commandeered the spacecraft.

Ztar woke and puppeted the shuttle technician quickly into a suit and then returned him to his slumbers. Nosing the shuttle into a steep climb, they accelerated into the heavens toward the Etagllot ship. The craft chimed its warnings as they ascended rapidly. 'Now Archangel, you need to take over piloting so I can fully focus on our assistant aboard ship,' he 'pathed.

Warren took the controls, keeping the rapidly climbing shuttle on course for the far side of the planet and a close watch on their closing pursuers.

Once again focused on the single crewmember on the Alpha Helix, Ztar led the woman through the final stages of readying the ship, bringing the engines on line, opening the shuttle bay door, and other tasks as quickly as she was capable. Ztar was familiar with the ship class – he had piloted and commanded several over the years. It was a small but tough ship and would suit their escape perfectly.

Warren rechecked sensors. 'Ztar, the other shuttle is bringing weapons on line,' he warned.

'Likely, they'll try only to disable.'

'I take it you can't you mindblast them.'

'Sorry, no. Their dampeners are on.'

Engines auto-shifted from atmospheric drive to space drive as they left the atmosphere. Suddenly, he noticed the silence. They were definitely out of atmosphere. Warren nosed down the shuttle to level out just the enemy shuttle fired a warning shot. He pushed their craft faster and the world below spun by.

'Shot fired! And we're being hailed,' he informed the Emperor in response to indicators on the control panel. In theory, the Alpha Helix should appear over the planet's horizon in another few moments. Until then, shuttle sensors were blind to it.

'We just need to delay them a few more seconds,' Ztar said, sending Archangel what he needed to know about the lifesuit's comm before refocusing on the Alpha Helix's crewmember.

Warren smiled and he opened a channel to the hailing shuttle. "May we help you?" he asked pleasantly.

There was a brief pause. "Shut down your engines immediately or our next shot will not be a warning," a stern voice commanded.

"Where has civility gone?" he goaded back. "Perhaps a please thrown in would garner cooperation."

"Your weapons are disabled, your shuttle is not space-worthy. You have few options. I will not ask again. Shut down your engines or we fire."

Just then, the Etagllot ship popped up on sensors. Warren immediately corrected course to close in on her quickly.

Ztar smiled slyly at Archangel as the ship became visible over the horizon.

"May I suggest you rethink that demand?" Warren proposed after a quick glance at the sensor readings on the Alpha Helix.

"You leave us no choice-" and the voice cut off abruptly.

"I think they're reconsidering," Warren grinned back at Ztar.

A bright ray of light shot from the Etagllot ship past their shuttle. The sensors relayed the rest of the story – the pursuit vehicle drifted dead in space, her engine destroyed.

"If only they had been more polite," Warren mused.

Ztar shook his head and laughed.

Once they settled the shuttle into the bay, the pair quickly discarded the lifesuits and bolted for the ship's bridge. Bursting onto the command deck, Warren immediately spied the crewmember standing in a trance near one of the control stations.

Ztar headed for the helm and directed Warren to standby at weapons. Since Ztar had the crewmember prep the ship for immediate departure, there was little left to do but hit the go button. Alpha Helix followed her preprogrammed route, moved away from the planet at sublight speed until they were clear to jump to FTL.

"Scanners don't show any other ships," Warren told Ztar just as they jumped. They sighed in unison.

### --- ###

Far below on Ymoz, Head Researcher Hercjell slammed her fist down hard three times on her desk. There was no response from Alpha Helix. The most logical assumption was that the powerful telepath had taken control. How was this possible? Every precaution had been taken and still the Emperor and his companion had escaped. The Emperor had been heavily sedated – comatose, in fact – and should not have been able to do what he did and thereby she couldn't imagine how the escape could have happened without inside help. Her superiors would thoroughly interrogate their one and only facility telepath, Migiun, once they were off Ymoz. Her gut told her that was the mostly likely betrayal. If the woman had anything to do with their subjects' escape, she would pay dearly.

The loss of the bionite technology was a huge blow. No telling what advancements might have been made had they unraveled their technology. Hercjell momentarily imagined her career in ruins, yet facility security wasn't her responsibility, so it might be possible to wiggle out of the debacle. There would be plenty of questions about test subject control and restraint, but she'd followed all standard protocols plus her approved enhancements. Still, she'd have to cover herself quickly and thoroughly.

Knowing the Etagllot, she reasoned they would not give up easily on acquiring the bionites. It was very possible, if she was agile enough to shed blame for the loss, she could work again on the project in the future after the human was recaptured. Hercjell began planning just how she might maneuver that into being as the order to ready for evacuation came over the intercom.

### --- ###

"Thank the gods!" Ztar spoke first, walking to the captain's chair where he sank in.

"My sentiments exactly," Warren confirmed.

Each remained silent for a minute, relishing their regained freedom.

A realization hit Warren now that the action was over. "Hey, we've got standard gravity. Feels like a weight's been lifted!"

Ztar nodded his agreement. "I should contact Gtar-Cro. We need a rendezvous point."

"While you do that, I'm finding a shower and hopefully something else to wear." Warren knew he reeked and didn't even want to think about the fact that his last shower was over a week ago. And his flimsy labwear was dirty, stiff with dried blood and sweat, and full of holes. He headed for the bridge exit. "Any idea where to start looking?"

"Deck three should be crew chambers. Try that first. Bio-sig security is inactive. You'll have access to anywhere on the ship."

"Deck three," he commanded stepping inside the lift.

In a few moments, the elevator stopped and the door slid silently open to reveal a barely lit corridor. Apparently, no one had turned on the lights yet. Warren wouldn't have any problems navigating in near darkness, but Ztar would if he came down. Stepping out into the corridor, the lights winked on. Problem solved! Now to find a shower and clothes.

The first room he entered was indeed quarters. It was simple and compact – bed, workstation, small sitting area, and a bathroom. No kitchen facilities, but there was a tiny sink, small section of counter, and what Warren recognized as the Turzent equivalent of a microwave. Warren walked over to the wardrobe and pulled open the drawers. Nothing.

On to the next quarters. It took several tries, but eventually he found chambers that had some clothing. Unfortunately, it was obviously for females. The next chambers down, though, had a small assortment of men's clothing. Holding a top and bottom up, they looked workable.

He decided to keep looking to see if he could find anything large enough for Ztar. Searching the last few chambers, he came up with little else. Ztar's seven-foot, muscular frame was not the norm. The Emperor would just have to improvise if he wanted clean clothes.

### --- ###

When Ztar's face came up on the large viewscreen in his ready room, it was the most wonderful sight he'd ever seen, aside from his child's newborn face that is.

"My Emperor! Praise to the gods you're safe!" Gtar-Cro exclaimed.

To Ztar it looked as if his long-time MI General might cry and/or collapse from exhaustion at any moment. "The gods protected us, General. Archangel is with me and also well."

"Ztar…" The General seemed to struggle to speak and used Ztar's name instead of his title, which rarely happened. "I'm told you are aboard an Etagllot ship but I know little more. Where are you headed?"

"We left the planet Ymoz a short while ago with a course laid in for Sat'rey."

"We were already en route for Ymoz when we received your distress signal."

Ztar was surprised, but yet not. Gtar-Cro was very, very good at his job. If anyone could have found them, it was his head of military intelligence. "I knew you would find us. I told Archangel that very thing." He gave the general a wide smile. "You could have gotten to Ymoz a few hours ago though – that would have saved Archangel and me a lot of trouble!" he joked.

Gtar-Cro chuckled lightly. "I look forward to hearing how you managed to escape and commandeer one of their ships." Then Gtar-Cro's face became serious. "Emperor, I'm sending the two cruisers that are with me on to Ymoz, but I'm certain by the time they arrive, the facility will be empty and perhaps destroyed."

Ztar nodded. That would be typical Etagllot behavior.

"Our ships will reach Ymoz at 12.2 tomorrow. Meanwhile, I'd like to rendezvous with you at Sarrys Station. We have much to discuss. Are either you or Archangel in need of medical attention? Is there food and water aboard the ship?"

Ztar leaned back in the captain's chair. "We're both well and I'm sure Archangel will find whatever food there may be," Ztar said unable to suppress a chuckle at that. "We're bringing two prisoners with us – the ship's technician and a shuttle tech."

The Emperor watched Gtar-Cro's face. Something flickered across it – discomfort, regret, guilt? It was not a look Ztar was used to seeing on the tough military man. He wished his empathic abilities could extend across the vastness. "General, I know how hard these past days must have been for you and your people. When I hear the details of how you managed to locate where we were being held, I believe without a doubt that I will be impressed. It is incredibly reassuring to know that had Archangel and I been unable to free ourselves, that you were on your way," Ztar shared, putting as much gratitude and faith as he could into the words.

He suspected that the three recent events – the bombing and two kidnappings – had rattled the General's confidence. The old Ztar would have felt that was fully justified and also doubted Gtar-Cro' ability to serve, but the person Ztar had become instead felt the General's pain at not being able to protect those he cared about. Ztar knew from his past mental probes of the General's mind that Gtar-Cro genuinely and deeply cared about Ztar's wellbeing. If he didn't, Gtar-Cro wouldn't be in the position he was.

Ztar recalled the pain and feeling of helplessness he had experienced when Sukja and Archangel were taken, and they were gone merely hours, not days. The guilt he took on from that event had weighed heavily until Archangel convinced him that only he blamed himself for what happened. He recalled Archangel's words – "Bad things can happen to anyone anywhere. That's life. It comes with no guarantees of safety. It is sometimes easier to blame ourselves than accept we can't control every aspect of our lives," was some of the wisdom his companion had shared. Those words were truth.

When the moment presented itself, Ztar would speak with Gtar-Cro as Archangel had spoken to him. Ztar would do what he could to help his General and friend deal with the guilt of failure he likely was taking upon himself.

### --- ###

After returning to the chambers containing the clothes, Warren ruffled and snapped his wings hard several times to release whatever sand might be so inclined to be dislodged, then quickly peeled off the filthy labwear and ducked into the small shower. 'God this feels good!' he sighed as the warm water ran over him, turning brown with dirt and dried blood. But with little room to extend his wings, Warren resigned himself that some of the sand, grim, and blood embedded in his feathers would have to stay there until they were somewhere with a larger shower. He hated the feel of grit beneath the feathers – it was like sandpaper against the membrane. Hopefully, he'd have to tolerate it a couple days worse case.

Stepping out of the shower and small bathroom, he flapped hard, sending water flying everywhere, and then finished drying off. A couple quick tears in the back of the shirt and he slipped into the wonderfully clean clothing. Shoes that fit would have been too much to ask for, so he padded around barefoot as he had done all during their escape.

'Back upstairs,' he thought. Then his stomach growled loudly and he realized he was hungry. Correction. He was ravenous! Nutrient bars only went so far. His body wanted real food now; no if, ands, or buts about it. During his search for clothing, he had spied the ship's galley at the end of the corridor. He projected out to Ztar and the telepath responded immediately, likely having kept a light mental connection with Warren once he left the bridge.

'I'm searching for food.' Warren could hear the mental chuckle. 'Found clothes for me, but you're shit outta luck!' Warren zinged over the telepathic airwaves. Serves Ztar right for laughing at his need for sustenance Warren thought with an annoyed huff.

Back down the hall, he entered the galley and started rummaging. The facility was well stocked, likely for the onboard caretaker. It didn't take long for Warren to gather enough food enjoyable at room temperature to fill his arms. Then he headed back to the bridge to savor his "light" snack.

Re-entering the bridge, someone was missing. "Where's the caretaker?"

"I sent her to the brig to keep our friend the shuttle technician from getting lonely."

"How considerate of you," Warren replied sarcastically. He'd have to remember to take them food and water…or maybe not, considering whom they worked for.

"What'd you bring us?" Ztar peered over at the armload of goodies.

"_I'm_ having a nice selection of delicious snacks. Because you laughed at me, you can fend for yourself," he retorted in feigned indignation, laying the food out on the floor and sitting down, legs crossed. Warren decided it best not to get food all over the bridge controls.

The food indeed looked good and Ztar's own stomach was protesting its empty condition. Whatever they had been using to sustain him while unconscious had long left his system.

"My Archangel," Ztar cooed as he watched the human spread out the tasty array, "don't you think that's a bit harsh?" Ztar rose from the captain's chair and moved toward the beckoning banquet.

"Not from my perspective. I scrounged, so can you. The galley's full of food," he quipped and then took his first bite of real food in a week. "God, this tastes good!" he announced with enthusiasm as soon as he swallowed the mouthful; then he took a long draw of water. "So-o-o much better than emergency rations."

Ztar hovered doing his best to look starved.

Warren could swear the man was sucking in his cheeks to look like a feed the hungry poster child. He sighed and relented in his little game. "Very well, help yourself." Ztar quickly joined him on the floor and dug in.

They ate mostly in silence the first couple minutes. Talking would have slowed down the intact of food and both were far too hungry for that.

"I spoke with a very relieved General Gtar-Cro," the Emperor shared, his mouth half-full of a sweet treat. "We rendezvous tomorrow at Sarrys Station. He deployed troops to Ymoz, but we're certain the Etagllot will be long gone before they arrive even with us taking their ship. If history is any indicator, the research facility will be in ruins."

Warren nodded. "Exactly what I'd do if I were the Etagllot. Leave nothing behind."

"For now, we can relax. We should be safe while in FTL mode," Ztar assured.

It wasn't long before they polished off everything Warren had brought up.

Ztar gazed lovingly at his companion, realizing how very close he'd come to losing Archangel. Again. How many times now in five years? "Thank the gods you're safe." Ztar leaned over to run his hand through the golden waves that were still damp from the shower.

Warren eyed the Emperor, wrinkling his nose. "You stink!" Warren said in mock disgust, leaning away from the Emperor. "Perhaps you should go clean up. I'll watch the bridge."

"But you said I was, and I quote, "shit out of luck" for clean clothes. What good would it do?"

"I didn't check _everywhere_. There's got to be something on board that'll work. Use your imagination."

Ztar got up. "Very well. I'll be back later then," and the Emperor disappeared into the elevator.

Now that he was clean, fed, and alone, Warren's thoughts turned to what he could remember from the past week at the hands of the Etagllot. He quickly realized it wasn't what little he could recall that sent shivers through him, it was what he couldn't. God only knew what the rogue scientists had done to him. What lengths had the scientists gone to in an attempt to acquire the nannites? Warren wasn't sure he wanted to know. Perhaps naivety was the best option. Yet the feeling of violation was strong. Another shiver traveled down the length of his body.

"Just another little gift courtesy of Apocalypse. Damn nannites! Will I ever be free of them?" he questioned aloud. Begrudgingly, though, he had to admit one thing. Because the nannites self-destruct if removed from his body, they had also prevented the Etagllot from slicing and dicing him while he lay helpless. 'Small favor, I guess.' Warren had long ago concluded it was Apocalypse's way of ensuring no one else got his or her mitts on his handiwork.

Then other questions came to him. How did the Etagllot find out about the nannites in the first place? Was Fjai involved? How much had they managed to learn about the nannites? What were they planning to do with that knowledge? Would the Etagllot come after him again? How long would they keep trying to steal the technology housed in his body? Who else knew what a technological wonder was contained within him, and would they also want it for their own purposes? Did Warren need to be looking over his shoulder the rest of his life? All extremely unsettling questions.

"Jesus, need to think about something else," he said aloud to himself, finally getting up off the floor. 'The questions will keep 'til we meet up with Gtar-Cro. See what he's learned.'

With a full stomach and feeling relatively safe, Warren felt the tug of sleepiness. Rubbing his eyes, he thought longingly of his soft bed back at the palace, but sleep would need to wait until Ztar returned to the bridge, so he passed the time looking over control panels in an attempt to learn what he could as the ship did its thing in auto-pilot.

### --- ###

Ztar exited the elevator on deck two where the captain's chambers should be located. Immediately the lights turned on. A lounge, conference room, senior officers' chambers, infirmary, and other miscellaneous functions typically resided on the deck immediately below the bridge in this cruiser class. Since Archangel searched the crew deck and found nothing in way of clothing for Ztar, the Emperor would begin here. If nothing else, he'd shower, wash his lab specimen garb, and wear a towel while the clothes dried. Or, he smiled to himself, he and Archangel could enjoy a little recreational time while they dried. With that image, heat ran up and down his body as it did without fail whenever he contemplated private time with his beloved companion.

Bare feet slapping the cool metal floor, Ztar made his way to the first door and placed a hand on the control. As soon as the door slid open, he knew it was indeed the captain's chambers. The room was nicely appointed as one would expect, yet quite small compared to his chambers on the Mi-Lartui. The Alpha Helix would carry a complement of 50, a third the size of Ztar's Imperial cruiser. Alpha Helix had the advantage, though, of being able to operate with far less crewmembers than Mi-Lartui. In theory, the nimble cruiser could get by with only a handful of competent crew for quite some time. In a pinch and on short jaunts, one skilled person was all it took to handle the ship.

Ztar went over to the wardrobe, hoping to find something. Nothing. Leaving the chambers, he explored the rest of the officer quarters, still coming up empty-handed. Archangel said to use his imagination and that is what he needed to do if he was going to clean up. Grabbing a fist full of bedding, Ztar yanked it off the mattress with one tug and took it with him back to the captain's suite.

### --- ###

When Ztar reappeared on the bridge, Warren did a double take and then burst out laughing. He couldn't help it. The first thing that came to mind was a toga party. Ztar had fashioned himself a robe of sorts out of what appeared to be bed linens. Ztar had a pained look on his face as Warren nearly doubled over in his fit. He needed a good laugh and the Emperor kindly provided one unintentionally.

"You said to use my imagination," Ztar grumbled, moving to the captain's chair. He was not used to being so enthusiastically laughed at and it was decidedly unpleasant experience. "It's only until the clothes dry."

Archangel was still chuckling from his chair at one of the crew stations as Ztar scanned the various sensor readings and checked for any new messages from Gtar-Cro or Rehsaw. Nothing. Then he eyed the human with mild disdain. The man continued to snicker from across the bridge.

"At least show your Emperor some respect!" he chided. Ztar was not at all amused, but he wasn't angry either. He knew he looked ridiculous.

"Ztar, it's just so…un-emperor like is all. The ruler of the vast Turzent Empire running around in a toga," and Warren broke out again in a paroxysm of laughter.

"Toga?"

Archangel shot him images of togas, toga parties, and all the silly, college-age antics synonymous with the word. Ztar cracked a smile as he began to understand the meaning. Then he started laughing himself. Very un-emperor like indeed!

Once the laughing had ceased, they sat quietly for a bit. "Nothing new from Gtar-Cro?" Warren asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

"I didn't expect anything. I told him to hold his reports until we reach Sarrys, unless something urgent arose."

"Is Sukja coming to Sarrys?"

Ztar nodded. It would be reassuring to see his aide. The full realization of what had happened was creeping in around the edges. He and Archangel had come so close to losing everything – their freedom; likely even their lives. Ztar rose and strode leisurely toward the human. If he ever found the Etagllots that dared to touch his beloved companion, they would die slow, painful deaths. But right now, all Ztar wanted was to take Archangel into his arms to feel that reassurance.

Warren glanced up from the controls he was examining when he heard Ztar moving. 'Oh boy, he's got that look.' One thing Ztar could never conceal was the look of lust in his eyes. An errant quiver ran through his wings.

"My Archangel, if I had lost you…" Ztar let the thought dangle as he slid a hand down the nearest wing. The sensual texture across his palm and fingertips heightened his longing. Then he did something else very un-emperor like. Kneeling down in front of the human, he gazed into the crystalline-blue eyes and beautifully handsome face that made his heart skip.

"You were magnificent today. Fierce in fact! Thank you for saving my life." Ztar was filled with gratitude for what Archangel had done that day and all the sacrifices he'd made because of and for Ztar the past five years. "I cannot imagine living without you. Thank you, too, for staying with me. For putting up with my sometimes thickheaded ways," he added smiling at his use of the term Archangel had thrown his way more than once. "I'm learning…I think I'm learning how this relationship business works." He reached up and combed his fingers through Archangel's golden waves.

Warren nodded looking at the man genuflected before him. Still needful, still emotionally young, but signs of progress and growth were obvious. When would the time come that Ztar would be okay without him? Another six months, a year, longer? His belief six months ago that he'd be able to return to Earth in a year may have been overly optimistic.

"You're welcome. Thank you likewise. You are the one who really pulled our asses out of the fire."

"It took three of us. You and I, we make a good team, don't we?" Ztar said, taking Archangel's hand into his as he stood.

"Damn good team!" Warren agreed, rising as Ztar gently pulled his hand upward. Desire was smoldering in Turzent's eyes.

"I've programmed the ship to alert us of any approaching ships or if any messages are received. We needn't remain on the bridge," Ztar said in a suggestive tone, reaching out to run fingertips down the side of a wing. The resultant shiver in Archangel was a guarantee and Ztar loved it.

The Turzent's whole body started giving off one signal – lustful desire. Warren leaned into the seven-foot frame, hard with muscle and raw strength and nearly immovable when he chose to be. As Ztar's arms enveloped him, pressing his wings tight to Warren's body, he looked up into the large, brown eyes. Those eyes had changed dramatically from cold and selfish five years ago to warm and giving, particularly this past year. Something else lurked there – an almost desperate need and Warren was that need. He still worried what would happen to Ztar's mental wellness should Warren leave or be taken from the Emperor before he was sufficiently healed. Until Ztar was ready and especially while the transitioning Empire required a healthy, stable ruler, Warren would remain at the Turzent's side. Ztar may always want Warren, but there's a difference between want and need. Warren believed he would know when that transition happened. It hadn't yet.

Then Warren said what he knew would bring joy to Ztar. "Let's go to bed then."

Ztar smiled down at his companion as his heart warmed with the words. It was a funny little euphemism the human used to say he wanted sex. It was one trait from the long tally of what he loved about Archangel. Ztar would like to hear the phrase a little more often as it was he who typically took the initiative, but he knew their pairing was not natural to the human, so he would not let that small thing lessen their time together.

The captain's chambers likely offered the most comfortable accommodations; the room and bed being larger than general crew quarters. Alpha Helix was a military class vessel, not luxury class. Therefore, she did not offer any ostentatious guest suites or other upscale facilities.

As soon as they entered the chambers, Ztar pulled Archangel into a tight embrace and brought his mouth down on the human's and was greeted with an open invitation. He loved Archangel's kisses more than any he'd had in his very lengthy list of bedmates. A blend of sweet submission with a promise of dominance that was singularly seductive.

He moved his hands over and around the human's back, coming tantalizing close to the wing bases and the particularly erogenous spot that never failed to kick-start Archangel's desire. He would only tease for now, come close but not touch. Not yet. He wanted this interlude to be long and luxurious, knowing how close they came to never having it again.

As the kiss continued, Warren allowed himself to melt into it. Ztar did kissing like he did everything else concerning sex – extremely well. Just enough deep probing, just enough nipping and biting, just enough teasing to keep them endlessly and desirably interesting. He felt the large hands move up his back toward the wings and a flash of heat ran to Warren's groin just in anticipation of the touch to come. When those hands did not go to the wing bases, he felt cheated. Spreading his wings slightly as a non-verbal cue had no effect either. Ztar was teasing, but Warren wasn't angry. It was part of the delight of sex.

Pulling away from Archangel's lips, Ztar whispered, "Let's get out of these," tugging at the crew shirt Archangel wore. The human frowned lightheartedly at that.

"Just don't go ripping them off me, clothing is scarce around here!" Warren was half afraid that's exactly what Ztar would do. It happened with such frequency that their tailor had raised questions on more than one occasion about the fate of his handiwork when the man realized some of the clothing was worn once and never seen again.

"We could just stay in bed until we meet up with Gtar-Cro. I see clothing as optional." Ztar grinned evocatively as he discarded his makeshift toga with a couple firm yanks.

Warren shook his head. "You're incorrigible!"

The instant Archangel undid the front closures, Ztar drew the shirt backwards to free it from the arms and wings, dropping the garment to the floor. One pesky piece of fabric gone, one more to go. He eased them the few paces to the bed, grabbed the linens and tossed them aside, then gently lowered Archangel down onto the mattress. As soon as his companion was horizontal, he grabbed the pant legs and with one quick tug, that cloth barrier, too, was on the floor. "Now my fierce Archangel, I have you where I want you!" he proclaimed salaciously.

Warren was mildly surprised at the playfulness in Ztar considering what they had just been through. Had Ztar actually been energized by the whole escaping business? Very possibly. He was a warrior at heart, after all, having spent years in the military and then fighting his way toward building an empire, not to mention the three-year war with the Commonwealth.

"You keep up that attitude and you'll see how fierce I can be. I kicked your sorry ass before and I can do it again!" Warren declared, referring back to the time four years ago when he had downed and punched out his then hated captor. Their more recent friendly tussle, though, the Emperor came out victorious – but only because he cheated in Warren's opinion.

Ztar laughed at the memory. "A mean right hook," Ztar said as he lowered himself atop Archangel, running his hand down the length of the human's torso and back up again. "More recently, though, I remember a different outcome."

Warren gave Ztar a quick jab in the ribs, causing the Turzent to wince. "Only because you kissed me! I should have cried foul."

Ztar ran his thumb over the human's lips. "But you've won the larger fight, my Archangel. You rule this ruler now, if you didn't already know."

If Archangel was inclined to comment, Ztar didn't give him time, taking in the sensual mouth in a deep, lingering kiss. Sliding his hands beneath his companion, up the muscular back, his fingers found those special points at the wing bases and hit them in unison. Archangel inhaled sharply and arched up against Ztar's chest. Yes, those spots never failed if you knew what you were doing and Ztar knew exactly what to do. He savored the shivers of pleasure that ran through the human, the sensation adding to his own escalating arousal.

Warren kissed Ztar urgently as a skilled hand trailed along the leading edge of his right wing. Shamelessly, he spread the wings fully across the bed, enticing Ztar to explore and titillate as only he could. Ztar immediately accepted the invitation, and fingers gently shifting down between the soft contour feathers to the highly sensitive membrane beneath. He raked his nails up the contours of the Turzent's back while he entwined a leg around Ztar's, squeezing down firmly.

Ztar loved the sensual textures of his lover's feathery appendages. They were exotically alluring and wholly sexy. Even their smell was seductive – a hint of wild animal that conjured erotic fantasies. Ztar plied skill developed over the years with his companion, titillating and seducing across the breadth of the wing. The empathic connection virtually sizzled.

"Oh, god!" Warren moaned as waves of exquisite sensations ran through him. Ztar could do things to arouse Warren no one else could. Stimulating the wings was one of those things. And when Ztar was at his best, Warren could swear there was a direct neuro connection between his wings, groin, and the pleasure center of the brain. And at that moment, Ztar was very, very good!

Archangel moaned and squirmed with delight beneath Ztar. That alone gave the Turzent enjoyment. Would he ever stop being in awe of the magnificent creature that was Archangel? He dove in for more, immersing himself in his lover. He kissed his way along the wing arch, working across the smooth shoulder, up the neck, and nipped the chin. After teasing with a couple false starts, he took that perfect mouth again savagely into his.

When they came up for air, Warren grazed his lips across Ztar's and when the Turzent moved to take his mouth yet again, Warren dodged and instead nuzzled an ear, then the neck. Sliding his hands up each of Ztar's powerful arms, he latched onto Ztar's mouth but only for moments, then pulled back and nipped the lips. Then without warning, he pushed the man over on his side and rolled himself half atop Ztar. Warren looked down upon his lover, his eyes following the contours of the chiseled features with a strong chin and high cheekbones. He took in the richness of the olive brown skin and how it contrasted against the black hair highlighted with deep purplish red wherever light played off it. The gold-flecked, dark chocolate eyes were large and drew you into their depths. Ztar was very handsome by any human measure. Digging his fingers into the thick hair, he plunged in for another fiery kiss.

As the kiss continued, Ztar rolled and Archangel was once again beneath him. Releasing Archangel's mouth, he lovingly caressed his companion and took in the visual delights of the lover he'd come so close to losing…a flawless body, deep golden hair, crystalline-blue eyes with pupils dilated from lust. The face was almost too beautiful to belong to a mortal – a blending of the best of male and female features. Sensuous lips; perfect bone structure. The rest of Archangel was equally exquisite and he let his eyes roam across his lover. Not an ounce of fat on the lithe frame. Well muscled, but not overly so. Not a scar or blemish marred the flesh. A warrior with no battle marks; likely a result of his mutant healing ability. Archangel's bone structure appeared delicate, yet Ztar knew it was incredibly strong, just like the human was physically far stronger than he looked.

"If only we could hide away like this forever," he whispered to his companion, raking his fingers through the golden hair. "I love you as I've loved no other."

Through the lusty haze that shrouded awareness of much beyond the bed, Warren saw a smile cross Ztar's face and heard the tender words. In the deep brown eyes, he saw reflections of not only desire, but contentment. That contentment was telegraphing through the empathic link. Warren reached up and touched Ztar face softly, their eyes locked. Then Ztar inundated Warren with another wave of incredible sensations with a caress of his nether regions. Moaning with bliss, he was lost once again to the fevered passion.

The universe collapsed to only the bed. There was no Etagllot, no empire; just Ztar and Archangel and desire that demanded fulfillment. Fingertips and tongues, hands and lips exploring the each other, relishing the sensations of skin and feather. Nipping and biting, kissing and caressing their way up and down one another's body. The smell of sex itself intoxicating.

Ztar could have lived in the moment for eternity. If it had been possible, he would have physically merged with Archangel. He wanted to absorb him, be in him – for Archangel to be _of_ him. The best he would do was draw out the lovemaking as long as he was capable; immerse himself in its intensity and unabashed joy of being with his companion. Archangel made him whole and fulfilled a need so deep and so aching that Ztar had once been a monster trying to satisfy it. That was all behind him now.

Warren needed Ztar to take him as the Turzent ground his groin into Warren's. His body vibrated with want for sex to reach its pinnacle – it was too much to endure any longer. "Please…Ztar…now!" he begged in a voice raspy with need.

The request swelled Ztar's heart – it was not spoken often. He'd done everything right – everything the human needed to overcome that one last small bit of resistance to being with a man and ask to be entered. He would honor the request without delay. He started slowly and gently, giving Archangel's body time to adjust. Then when the man was ready, he thrust into him fully.

Ztar hit that spot, sending delight shooting through him. Warren held on tight, crying out in his bliss as Ztar repeatedly found the mark. His body nearly went into pleasure overload.

Ztar savored each sensation of plunging in and out of his beloved as the empathic connection and his lover's utterances conveyed the perfection of his skill. Finally, he could bear to hold back no longer. In the same instant, Archangel called up the mysterious energy. Dual climaxes and purest ecstasy melded and crashed over and through them and they cried out in unison. It was all-consuming and it devoured them. Their bodies burned with its raging fire. The feeling was beyond rapturous. As the energy and climaxes ebbed, the power of it left them blissfully exhausted. Ztar rolled to Archangel's side, resting carefully atop a wing still spread across the bed.

"My god, Ztar," Warren managed between panting breaths, "that was… beyond amazing!"

Ztar was pleased beyond words. Rarely did Archangel offer a critique of his work. He gazed at Archangel with loving tenderness. The man glistened with sweat – on Archangel it looked incredibly sexy.

Shifting around to free the wing, Ztar pulled his companion even closer so his head rested on Ztar's broad shoulder. Lying with Archangel wrapped in his embrace, they rested as breathing and heart rates returned to normal. Suddenly Archangel shivered, then reached down and drew up the bedcovers.

"You forgot to turn up the heat?" Warren asked groggily of Ztar, snuggling tight against the Turzent for warmth. The expenditure of the passionate energy always left him drained. Sleep would claim him soon.

Ztar felt slumber pulling at him also. "A slight oversight. My apologies," he answered, his voice still husky from sex. "But this," he squeezed tighter, "is worth the chill."

"One more thing, Ztar," Warren said quietly, eyes closed in restful sleepiness.

"What's that?"

"You need to get scanned for nannites."

Ztar groaned deeply and then settled in, falling asleep quickly.

Listening to the Turzent's slow, steady breathing, Warren's mind drifted with thoughts of how his life was unfolding. Yet another brush with death and he had come out virtually unscathed. How many times could he cheat the grim reaper?

Life had become so very odd, one improbable step at a time, to arrive at a point where he was lying in the arms of a man and actually found it pleasurable. He had grown quite fond of Ztar – almost frighteningly so if he was honest with himself. Lying wrapped within the strong arms, he felt…what? Contentment? Just what were these feelings toward the alien? They were conflicting with yearnings for home and female companionship. He wanted to feel the pleasures of a woman again.

Merryth's smiling face came to him. She represented what he was giving up to remain at Ztar's side and in his bed. He felt pulled by opposing desires and needs. 'Has a tug of war had broken out?' he wondered and then immediately discarded. 'Not possible,' he assured himself. 'That could only be if you had fallen in love with Ztar and you have not. Don't confuse the bond of friendship and amazing sex with something it's not.' And then sleep quieted his conflicted mind.

### --- ###

_The next section still needs quite a bit of editing, so it'll likely be several days. _

_For readers out there who haven't yet posted a review, I would absolutely love to hear your thoughts, even if it's just a few words. You'd really make my day and help keep me on task. _

_To my faithful reviewers, thank you SO much for the ongoing feedback. Keep it up!_


	8. Chapter 8

_Hello everyone! _

_Chapter 8 was a tough one. I don't know what it was about this segment, but it just didn't want to come together. There's a lot of little stuff and foreshadowing happening and perhaps it's simply the number of details that has overloaded my brain. I'm still not completely happy with it, but going to throw the chapter out there anyway and get your opinions. I admit to being nervous about posting a chapter that I don't feel is fully polished, but at this point, I need to move on. I'm open to suggestions on changes and not resistant to more editing and reposting if it improves the chapter. _

_With that said, let's find out what happens in the aftermath of Ymoz._

**Chapter 8**

As soon as Alpha Helix's main hatch opened to Sarrys Space Station, they saw General Gtar-Cro and Sukja, along with a group of military troops.

"My Emperor!" Gtar-Cro exclaimed with hearty enthusiasm and took Ztar into a bear hug while Sukja did the same with Archangel. Then Sukja and Ztar embraced.

"I brought you a gift, General. Her name is Alpha Helix. I hope you will find some interesting data in her memory banks." Ztar presented his prize with a pleased grin as the soldiers moved in to take over the ship.

"My Emperor, vow to me this moment you will never put fear of the gods into us like that again!"

Gtar-Cro chided him with a crooked smile and mild humor that was slightly out of character for the usually stern military man. "I will do my very best, General." Ztar placed a firm hand on the shoulder of the man who looked like he'd aged 10 years since the kidnapping.

Sukja looked from Ztar to Archangel. "Are you both well? I'm told you are to report immediately to the medical bay."

"We're fine!" Ztar and Warren said in unison.

Warren chuckled. "I think Ztar and I have had enough of anything resembling med labs for quite some time."

The Emperor nodded. "Archangel speaks truth."

Sukja knew both men should be examined. Who knew what the Etagllot scientists may have done to them. "But the physicians want to make certain-"

"No." Again Ztar and Archangel answered simultaneously.

Ztar looked to Archangel with a twinkle in his eyes. "We're of like minds on this, Sukja. Should either of us feel something is wrong, we'll see the physicians."

"That seems an acceptable compromise for the moment," Gtar-Cro injected. "However, my Emperor, you and Archangel must be scanned for implanted devices at a minimum."

Ztar nodded an affirmative. "And we will, but my first order of business is clothing – these have served their purpose and beyond. Ztar yanked gently for emphasis at the torn and still dirty garments despite his attempt to wash them.

Warren looked down at their bare feet. "And shoes," he added realizing how cold the floor was.

"Then if you are both up to it, I liked to hold a debriefing at 11.0 in the command level meeting room. It's 10.2 now."

Ztar and Archangel signaled agreement.

The entourage and guards wound through the space station to their assigned quarters where they could clean up and change into new clothes. Ztar showered first and then busied himself catching up on imperial matters while waiting for his companion.

Getting the embedded dirt out of his wings proved a challenge. The station shower still wasn't large enough to do a thorough job. 'Jesus, sometimes wings are a pain,' Warren complained in his thoughts. MI provided fatigues, and with quick modification to the shirt, Warren got dressed. The footwear was an interesting combination of sneaker and military boot, but the shape-conforming material ensured a decent fit. As soon as he emerged from the bathroom, Ztar looked up from his new PI. The old one was MIA.

"Time to go, Archangel. Gtar-Cro is ready for us." He rose.

Warren glanced at the clock. They were late. "Sorry, the wings took longer than I thought. Ground in dirt is a bitch."

Ztar chuckled. "I'll be sure to explain to Gtar-Cro that we were delayed due to preening," A sly grin slid across his across.

"Don't you dare!" Warren backed up his warning with a lethal glare.

###

General Ztar, Sukja, and Rehsaw, who had arrived in his cruiser shortly after Alpha Helix, along with seconds from both military intelligence and regular military, were all waiting in the conference room when Ztar and Archangel entered. The room filled with the typical "My Emperors" and then everyone quickly settled in once the Emperor sat down at the head of the conference table.

"Before we begin, General Gtar-Cro, I'd like to hear how it was that you learned we were held on Ymoz," Ztar requested.

The General flashed a look of something at Ztar, but Warren couldn't read it. He'd been thinking about Gtar-Cro while getting ready for the meeting. The man was responsible for the safety of the royal court, yet over the past several months four court members had been kidnapped or nearly killed. The General must be feeling frustrated at a minimum and incompetent at worst. It was a point he was certain was not lost on the telepathic Emperor. He wondered what Ztar's thoughts were on the issue. Then Warren stopped his ruminations as Gtar-Cro began his report.

"Evidence surfaced that Archangel was the target of the kidnapping. The break came when we linked the investigation of the paragraph in the Turzent/Earth Accord concerning Military Development you requested to your disappearance." Gtar-Cro stopped when Ztar's expression changed abruptly.

'Huh?' Warren shot a look to Ztar.

Gtar-Cro's revelation jolted Ztar. He hadn't told Archangel about the investigation – a little detail he failed to share with Gtar-Cro. 'Archangel, hold any questions about the Accord until later,' he quickly put into the human's head. 'I'll explain in private anything Gtar-Cro doesn't.' Then to Gtar-Cro, 'My apologies, General. I'll fully brief Archangel later on the Accord issue. Continue.'

'Is this connected to our concern regarding the nature of the Accord?' Warren wondered, but did not project to the telepath. He had let the Accord matter sit on the backburner over the past months. Apparently, Ztar hadn't. 'What did he find and how is Military Development involved?' Warren would do as requested and not interrupt with questions during the briefing, but he was intensely curious. The General had Warren's rapt interest as he continued the report.

"It was through those leads that we learned of a possible Etagllot facility on Ymoz. Taking our investigation to events surrounding the Accord's inception, we located and questioned the crewmembers who had been aboard the Mi-Lartui when it was written. The starting point was those who had either authorized access or the technical skills to gain access to data collected on Archangel during the background check. As a result, the source of the Accord paragraph was uncovered, which turned out to be our breakthrough lead."

The General took them back in time to when Ztar's fleet arrived at Earth and Shi'ar and Imperial representatives were negotiating the future of Earth and Archangel's fate. "As is standard practice, we performed a background investigation of Archangel," the General began. "Systems expert T'estuig was responsible for the data mining on Archangel. That tech found and read the files on the nannites, immediately recognizing the significance of that biotechnology having served in MD earlier in his career."

As Gtar-Cro's continued his report, they learned T'estuig covertly sent word to his long-time friend Major Jui of Military Development of the exciting find. Jui was indeed acutely interested and requested the subfiles containing the nannite data be spun off and clandestinely relayed to Jui. It was risky, but T'estuig obliged his former commander feeling confident in his superior skills do so without detection.

Warren's heart lurched at what he was hearing. MD knew of the nannites five years ago! The same group that was in bed with the Etagllot years earlier – the same group responsible for Ztar's augmentation. He wanted to jump in with questions, but held his tongue as the Emperor requested.

As Gtar-Cro continued his report, they learned the Major talked with a member of Stjarmas'de's department that owed him a rather large favor. Law-writer Y'lypps was one of several working on the Accord language. He agreed to write the one paragraph clause as repayment of his debt. Preferring that MD's interest remain low key, Y'lypps slipped the paragraph into the Accord along with the other final edits. As they hoped, no one raised any objections regarding the small clause. "And that was the source of the paragraph in question," Gtar-Cro said wrapping up the background information.

It was obvious the General intentionally avoided revealing the paragraph's content. 'What the hell does that clause say?' Warren kept the question to himself. Ztar was watching him, the look asking for patience. He would even though curiosity burned.

"What happened next was like the gods answered my prayers," Gtar-Cro expressed with obvious gratitude. "Leads fell like dominos." The general continued, leaning on the table toward Ztar and Archangel. Now-retired Major Jui maintained covert ties to a survivor of the day Ztar's powers manifested at the MD research facility. That bio-tech researcher named Xehnair Dexaf immigrated to the Par-Sen System over 15 years ago fearing retribution by Ztar for his involvement with the augmentation program. Gtar-Cro's contacts within Par-Sen intelligence took the path quickly from there.

Turned out that Xehnair was already under surveillance for known ties to the Etagllot. When brought Xahnair in for telepathic questioning, he proved to be a wealth of bits and pieces of information. A respected biotechnologist, he had been approached by the Etagllot for a project involving bionites just three months earlier.

"In fact, he'd gone so far as accepting their proposition, including the typical Etagllot requirement that he leave behind his current life. The man apparently enjoyed living beyond his means and had racked up an impressive amount of debt. With few family ties and debt he could likely never repay, he all too happily agreed," Gtar-Cro shook his head at the all-too-familiar Etagllot MO of exploiting desperation in recruits.

In a stroke of luck for Gtar-Cro's investigation, the man had overheard one of the Etagllot agents mention Ymoz. Xahnair had no idea where that was, but it sounded like the location of the biotech research facility where he would be working.

"Then the unexpected happened. Xahnair became ill, very ill, two days before his scheduled 'disappearance.' The Etagllot operatives apparently believing he knew nothing of consequence let the hospitalized scientist be, likely because his prognosis was not encouraging. Xahnair survived his brush with death, though, and left the hospital some time later knowing his chance to slip away and elude debt had likely evaporated."

Gtar-Cro leaned back in his chair with a look of satisfaction. "We had a possible location, Ymoz, a remote mining planet near the edge of Turzent space. Our ships were on the way when we received your distress call."

Ztar had been completely absorbed in the report when it ended. What a string of fortunate events, all going back to him ordering Gtar-Cro to investigate the Accord paragraph. "General, to say I'm impressed is an understatement. What you and your people managed to uncover in an extremely short period of time is a testament to the effectiveness of your organization. I think I speak for both of us when I say Archangel and I are immensely grateful for your superb work. If we hadn't been able to free ourselves, you would have arrived in a matter of hours. Thank you, General." Ztar made sure his voice was filled with respect and gratitude and for the others to hear it, especially Rehsaw. He wanted there to be no doubts as to his continued confidence in Gtar-Cro's abilities to lead Military Intelligence despite recent events.

General Gtar-Cro gave his Emperor a head bow in acceptance.

"Now, Generals, let's get to the debriefing," Ztar commanded.

They spent next two hours answering endless questions, or so it seemed to Warren. With great effort, he held his questions regarding the Accord paragraph. Relating everything they could recall of the Etagllot did divert his attention, but he grew more impatient as the debriefing dragged on.

### --- ###

"It was as we expected, the facility destroyed and no trace of the Etagllot," Gtar-Cro informed the Emperor in extremely disappointed tones as he reviewed the status report that had just come through on his PI. The Ymoz raid had concluded while the debriefing was in session.

"We knew that would likely be the case." Regardless, Ztar burned with anger that vengeance would not be his today. "But they _will_ pay for their crimes."

Gtar-Cro's hand clenched into a fist. "Indeed they will, my Emperor."

He and his commander of Military Intelligence had remained in the conference room on Sarrys Station after the debriefing. Ztar wanted to talk with Gtar-Cro privately. "What did you not share while others were in the room?" Ztar asked, knowing the Gtar-Cro had held back in the meeting. A light telepathic touch had revealed that without doubt. It had to do with Earth, but Ztar hadn't probed deeper knowing he would find out soon enough. He also had questions regarding the mechanics of their kidnapping.

The General locked eyes with the Emperor. "I wanted you to hear before Archangel what we've learned concerning Earth."

"Explain." Ztar leaned toward his General.

"I contacted Charles Xavier of Earth after we found he had sent two urgent messages to Archangel just after the kidnapping." The General proceeded to explain that conversation in detail. "That was the day after you were taken. I asked Xavier to investigate whether there were any cases of Earth's mutant population reported missing." The General waited for Ztar to put the pieces together.

"His report back was not what we wanted to hear, was it?"

"No, my Emperor. There have been numerous reports of mutants disappearing without explanation. None were high profile individuals and the incidents sporadic enough over the past four years to not garner collective attention, but the pattern is there."

Ztar narrowed his eyes. "The Etagllot are harvesting the mutants," he concluded with disgust.

Gtar-Cro concurred with a slight wave of his hand. "That is the theory, but we still need to confirm. The timing of all the pieces is just too coincidental. We believe their organization may have acquired knowledge of Earth's mutant population from our own data mining five years ago."

Ztar clenched his jaw at the ramifications. "There are many questions to be answered. On the broad scale, what is the scope of their infiltration into our Empire? Is Military Development contaminated? Are there other Etagllot facilities within our Empire? What do we face beyond our borders with the Par-Sen and the Commonwealth? On a narrower scale, how did the Etagllot find out about our trip to Fjai? Do they have someone working from within our staffs? How did they learn of the nannites within Archangel in the first place? From MD? Another source? I want to know what we are up against, General."

"You will have your answers, my Emperor," Gtar-Cro assured, eyes locked with Ztar's.

"Our kidnapping – what have you uncovered there?"

Gtar-Cro's expression changed subtly – it was a tender point Ztar knew without doubt. How could it not be? The General was guarding his emotions well, but when Ztar fully focused his keen empathic senses, little could hide from him. Humiliation, guilt, anger – they were all there beneath the surface.

When the General concluded his summary of what they had learned and extrapolated, Ztar was troubled. He saw security gaps, which individually or against another opponent would be of little consequence, with one exception – the escort shuttle. And when you're dealing with the Etagllot, even the slightest crack in your shield is dangerous.

"General, I am going to withhold judgment on that event until you've concluded your internal investigation. I know you did not personally oversee the Fjai trip and your staff is highly skilled and fully capable of acting on your behalf. However, the incident does raise concerns."

Gtar-Cro diverted his eyes and shifted ever so slightly, further indicating his mental discomfort. "You should know that Rehsaw and his upper-level staff, including MD's commander, are clear of Etagllot contamination as best as we can ascertain. As for the lesser ranks…our investigations continue."

"And your own staff?" Ztar immediately felt uneasiness emanating from Gtar-Cro.

"My internal investigation continues as well. However, I've a high-level staff member on my suspect list. I need to proceed cautiously if he is indeed an Etagllot plant. I don't want to risk any leads should that be the case."

"Do you wish me to probe your suspect?" Ztar offered. It didn't take a master strategist to put the pieces together – Gtar-Cro suspected one of his seconds.

With a wave of his hand, the General politely declined the offer. "At this time, no. Perhaps in the future. For now, I wish the suspect to remain unnamed, if I may."

"Proceed as you see fit." Ztar would acquiesce to his general's wishes and not ask or probe for that knowledge. The General did nothing without justification. Ztar's concern returned to Earth System. "Back to the humans. I want a ship or ships sent to the Earth System to safeguard them from the Etagllot."

"Already done, along with independently monitored sector scanners."

Ztar gave the General a quick nod of approval. His thoughts began to race in contemplation of their "quiet" war ahead and anger swelled. Not again. Not after all the time and resources spent to supposedly destroy the Etagllot last time. This couldn't be happening, yet it was. Once more, the people under his Empire's protection were being taken against their will in the Etagllot's immoral experiments and the security of everything he built was threatened. And just when his empire was most vulnerable – during the governmental transition.

"We must stop them. For the sake of our Empire, Earth's people, and Archangel. I want every available resource directed to getting the answers we need. I don't care what it takes. We must crush the Etagllot once and for all time!" Ztar looked his MI commander feeling both angry and discouraged. "Are we facing 15 years ago all over again?"

Gtar-Cro suddenly looked as disheartened as Ztar felt. "I cannot answer that as yet. As you know, the earlier investigation uncovered little within our borders aside from inference and supposition. It is still possible the Etagllot have not made significant inroads into our Empire – your kidnapping alone does not negate that hope."

The Emperor mulled over the idea. "General, I'm not sure that is good news. An enemy within may be easier to destroy. An enemy entrenched beyond our borders will be more difficult to uproot."

The quiet sigh from his fellow Turzent was long and deep, echoing Ztar's own feelings. Just contemplating another Etagllot war was exhausting and dispiriting.

Gtar-Cro broke the contemplative silence with a change in subject. "May I ask what you plan to tell Archangel regarding Earth? I still have his PI and Xavier has been trying to contact him since I sent word Archangel was safe. What Xavier knows Archangel will as soon as they connect."

"He has a right to know what we have learned. I want a summary report of the Etagllot threat sent to Archangel's PI. When that is done, brief him regarding the suspected abductions and then return his PI. I'm authorizing an upgrade of his communication channel to Earth to the military link. Archangel is free to share everything in your report with Charles Xavier."

Gtar-Cro's expression was one of mild surprise. "Is that wise, my Emperor?"

"I believe him trustworthy and steady – my probe of him five years ago showed me the depth of his honor. Xavier's response to the information will be measured. This is Archangel's world, General, and one I wish to extend the hand of reconciliation. Sharing what we know will be a good first step."

"Understood."

"Regarding Archangel, we must determine ways to protect him from the Etagllot. And until we know otherwise, consider MD as much a threat to him as the Etagllot. Sat'rey and the palace are the safest places for him, but I want you to consider additional measures to ensure his protection. Increase security as needed around Sat'rey and the palace, but unobtrusively. However, we will not rush into any new protocols that affect Archangel directly. I want him to recover from the kidnapping within the stability of an unchanged routine for a time."

Gtar-Cro was slightly surprised at Ztar's last comment. Such a difference from the man of even two years ago who gave little thought to anyone's emotional needs beyond his own. "I will develop a plan and present it to you at a later date."

Ztar nodded. "Begin quiet investigations into harvestings that may be occurring on other planets. Protection of our peoples is to be a top priority. Press your Par-Sen contacts for every scrap of intel they have. That regime must either cooperate with us or prepare to be our enemy if they are harboring the Etagllot. One more thing, General," Ztar added as he stood. "The telepath Migiun is not to be harmed in any of your operations. I will provide you with the location of her family – they are to be discreetly guarded at all times. She risked much to assist us. I caution you, General, the Etagllot and their telepaths are not to be allowed to learn of Migiun's involvement or that she and her family are being protected. Should they do so, I fear for her life and that of her family. I don't care how you manage it, but that is my command."

Gtar-Cro rose from his seat. "We will do our very best to shield our actions from the Etagllot. That is the most I can promise where telepaths are involved."

"I know your resources will be stretched to the limit, but we cannot lose sight of the old threats. Enemies of the transition are still with us, as are others."

As the General nodded his understanding, Ztar stole a brief glance inside Gtar-Cro's mind in search for what he knew was there – feelings of incompetence and guilt. The General was even toying with resignation.

Pulling himself up into full Emperor stance, he looked down at his General. "One last command for today." The Turzent looked expectantly. "You will banish all thoughts of resigning from my Court. I have complete confidence in your abilities. You warned me on numerous occasions about the perils involved with the government transition and I chose to accept those risks and the potential terrorist activity. And the Etagllot incident only proves that our old enemy has not become any less formidable with time, only lying in hiding and regaining strength. We are not all-knowing despite our attempts to be so and our enemies can and do elude us at times. As Archangel once told me, life comes with no guarantees of safety. The universe is a dangerous place and these are perilous times. I need my Commander of Military Intelligence focused wholly on the tasks at hand and not doubting my confidence in him or giving in to thoughts of self-doubt. Do I make myself clear, General?"

Ztar saw/felt the rush of emotions through Gtar-Cro – everything from embarrassment to humble gratitude.

"Yes, my Emperor." An almost audible sigh came through in Gtar-Cro's reply.

Ztar relaxed and grinned at his old friend and staunch supporter. "Besides, General, where else will I find a MI commander who can practically read _my_ mind after all these years?" Ztar was pleased when a small smile crept across Gtar-Cro's face.

With that, Ztar left the conference room and headed to their assigned chambers to have what would be likely a disturbing conversation for his companion.

Gtar-Cro watched as his Emperor and friend exited. Ztar's assurance of continued confidence was a bit of a surprise. The General wasn't certain he would be quite so generous if he were emperor. But it had filled him with both relief and thankfulness. He would do everything within his power to live up to that faith. The Emperor was doing nothing short of placing the security of his empire and its people in Gtar-Cro's hands. He would not fail. The Etagllot and anyone else who threatened to undermine what Ztar had built were going down.

Gtar-Cro left the conference room with renewed determination, already developing strategies for their new war.

### --- ###

Warren waited for Ztar to return from his private meeting with Gtar-Cro, nearly pacing in his anxiousness to ask his questions. He'd come up with several possibilities, none of which were benign. Finally, the door slid open and the Emperor entered looking tired.

"Are you okay?" he asked with concern, moving to the small kitchen area to pour two glasses of the Dison he'd ordered from station stores.

"I'll be much better the day we can say we have truly eradicated the Etagllot. That organization is possibly as powerful today as it was 15 years ago, only this time they are apparently entrenched in the Par-Sen system. Now they've become bold enough to set up operations in my Empire and to take Imperial citizens once again for their depraved experiments."

Ztar's anger was flaring and justifiably so, Warren felt. The more he learned of the Etagllot, the more worried he became about what that organization was capable of. Warren handed Ztar his glass. "You and Gtar-Cro will succeed in the end, Ztar, I have no doubts. Unfortunately, it will likely take a lot of time and resources."

"Too much of both, Archangel. This will pull resources better spent elsewhere. We're facing a war of a different kind and so soon after the expense of the Commonwealth conflict. The Empire is still recovering from that confrontation," Ztar said taking a gulp of the liqueur. "The treasury runs low."

They settled into the small sitting area. "Ztar, I was wondering about the Accord paragraph you asked Gtar-Cro to investigate."

Ztar looked down into his glass. "Archangel, our concern about the Accord had merit, though not how you and I had thought. The Accord is not simply an agreement between you and me after Earth fulfilled their part. It actively binds you and Earth both into performing in a certain manner indefinitely. Earth and anyone connected with your homeworld are barred from any attempt to free you; hence, an ongoing performance requirement. Their participation in the Accord did not end with turning you over to me."

"It makes sense when you think about that way. No wonder Starjamas'de didn't look at it as anything other than a planetary agreement between Earth and the Empire. I'd still like to read it myself, though."

Ztar nodded. "Of course. It was the paragraph regarding MD that troubled me and I asked Gtar-Cro to look into it. However, he didn't have an opportunity to pursue very far before the Etagllot took us."

"From what he said today, it turned out to be the key to finding us. Quite the coincidence."

Ztar waved a hand in a gesture showing his amazement. "More than coincidence…almost as if the gods were guiding it."

Warren didn't believe in Ztar's gods of Sat'rey, but he had to admit, it was an almost miraculous unbroken chain of clues. "So what exactly does that paragraph say?"

Ztar took a sip of Dison and gathered his thoughts. "First, remember that for many years, where military development went, so went the Etagllot. The Etagllot was so imbedded in MD when I took power it was hard to know where one ended and the other started. It was that old connection that caused Gtar-Cro to pursue the investigation of the Accord paragraph in hopes of finding a lead to our whereabouts."

When Ztar paused, Warren broke in. "What about the paragraph?" He wanted Ztar to get to the heart of the matter.

Ztar felt a flash of embarrassment over what he was about to reveal. It again showed his lack of thoroughness in not having read the Accord at any time during the past five years. "After you and I talked about the Accord, I examined it in its entirety. What I found was the clause I asked Gtar-Cro to investigate – a single sentence that made my heart lurch. It says that should I die, become incapacitated, or otherwise relinquish claim to you, you become the property of Military Development to do with as they wish."

It took a moment for the ramifications to set in. "If you had been killed during the war or otherwise died…" Warren swallowed hard. "Major Jui obviously wanted the nannite technology enough that they risked inserting that paragraph on the sly, what I'm assuming was a risky maneuver. Jui must be very patient if nothing else – they'd only get me if you died or relinquished me. Could be a long wait as history has shown."

Ztar sighed. "My Archangel, think back to the man I was at the time. From their perspective, the wait wouldn't be long. I usually relinquished bedmates every few weeks," he explained, his heart hurting at the truth of what he had been.

"Oh, Jesus." Ztar was right – MD would have believed the wait to be short. "And from the background check, they would have known I'd likely survive you intact, at least physically. Then they'd have the nannites and their host."

Ztar nodded. "So you see, the plan from their perspective was quite good. When bedmates left my service, I never bothered to learn what happened to them. They simply went away and I waited for Sukja to find my next companion." Every word of admission drove more guilt home and he shuddered bodily and mentally. "Major Jui would have simply stepped forward waving the Accord to claim you. I'm sorry, Archangel. I was a monster and that truth is painful. I put you in grave danger simply by taking you, more so than I ever realized."

Warren saw the physical reaction in Ztar. "You were cruel and uncaring back then, true, but no more. I did horrible things as Apocalypse's monster, so I am not one to judge. That's behind us. We're not those men anymore. Sometime, the hardest part is forgiving ourselves."

Ztar nodded. How true the words.

"Military development did wait patiently, though. I'm surprised that they didn't try something to get their hands on me. It would have been relatively easy those three years I spent on Earth during the war."

"Actually, Archangel, that doesn't surprise me too much. Taking you would have been a fatal mistake. Anyone watching carefully would have realized how much I needed you – my risky trips to Earth alone were testament to that. If you had turned up missing, I'd had overturned the Empire to find you despite the war. And the war also diverted their attention and priorities elsewhere."

Warren nodded. "Seems reasonable. What are you going to do about the people involved? Major Jui for example. And the big question – was MD involved in our kidnapping?"

"Gtar-Cro's investigation continues into MD's possible involvement. The former Major and his two accomplices is another detail to be addressed. I need to consider my reaction. Conspiracy and deceit cannot be tolerated, even if from five years ago."

Warren sipped his drink certain he'd not want to be any of the people that were party to the insertion of the clause. Their futures were decidedly bleak. "Thank goodness you didn't tire of me, Ztar," Warren offered in an odd sort of gratitude. Thanking Ztar for keeping him was the last thing Warren ever imagined doing.

Smiling, Ztar sent loving feelings to his companion. "Tiring of you is something that will never happen, my Archangel." Then the painful pang of knowing someday he would likely lose the human's companionship shot through him. He pushed it down. That he wouldn't think about.

At Ztar's words and the sensations accompanying them, the question of when Warren could leave Ztar rose up again. Five years plus he'd already given to Ztar. How much longer? Warren set that line of thinking aside and all the jumbled emotions that came with it for more immediate concerns.

Warren considered whether to share his unease about the number of people who knew of the nannites and the growing threat he felt. It would be hard to hide his apprehension from the telepath for long and Ztar would surmise his concern anyway. "I worry about the nannites falling into the wrong hands. The X-men and I managed to keep knowledge of their existence fairly limited, but with so many people now aware of them and their potential…" He let the rest of the thought dangle.

Archangel's eyes were filled with concern and the empathic connection echoed it. Ztar's chest tightened at the thought of his beloved living in constant trepidation. It drove home the necessity of stronger security measures regarding Archangel. "Sat'rey is the safest place in my Empire. We can protect you there," Ztar said simply, feeling elaboration was unnecessary. Strong feelings of protectiveness swept through him. He would do whatever was necessary to safeguard his treasured companion.

"I just don't want to become a prisoner of security, okay?" Warren worried Ztar may be so fearful for him that that was a possibility.

Before he could respond, Ztar's PI chimed the tone for Gtar-Cro and he checked the message. The General was ready to return Archangel's PI. Ztar was glad for the interruption. He wouldn't have to promise the human something he wasn't sure he could. "Archangel, General Gtar-Cro would like to speak with you."

That surprised Warren. "What about, does he say?"

"He has your PI. They found it on the shuttle. He'll explain. He's on his ship and can see you now."

Warren got up wondering why Gtar-Cro didn't give him the PI earlier. "Okay, then. The guard knows the way I assume."

Ztar nodded.

###

"You wanted to see me, General." Warren stepped into Gtar-Cro's ready room on his ship docked at the station.

Gtar-Cro stood and held out Warren's PI. "We found this on the shuttle – you'll find several messages from Earth. Your friend Charles Xavier knows about the Etagllot kidnapping and waits to hear from you. I took it upon myself to comm him that you had escaped and were safe. When you talk with him, you can speak freely and openly. The link is now via the high-security military comm."

Warren took his PI. "Thanks, General."

"You'll find a report of what we know about the Etagllot threat on your PI. Ztar commanded that you are free to share that information with Xavier," Gtar-Cro explained.

Warren's interest was piqued now. "Why?"

"Please be seated, Archangel. I have some disturbing news to share."

As Gtar-Cro explained the mutant kidnappings, Warren's heart sank. Possibly 60-some people were in the hands of the mercenary scientists, maybe more. "What are you doing to protect Earth?"

"As soon as the threat was discovered, I sent two ships to stand watch over your homeworld and ordered the deployment of sector scanners. That alone should deter any further intrusions into your star system. However, because the Etagllot apparently have advanced cloaking technology of unknown capabilities, I cannot make any guarantees."

"Cloaking?"

"Yes," the General confirmed, leaning back in his chair. Warren wasn't quite certain what to read into the body language. He knew what the distancing translated to in human communication, yet other signals conflicted with that meaning. "It played a major role in your kidnapping."

"I'd like to hear how they pulled that off," Warren requested.

Gtar-Cro crossed his arms – another indication that he was closing off and resistant to the line of questions. "The Emperor has been fully briefed. I'm going to defer to him to that issue, Archangel."

'Sore point.' Warren surmised, nodding acceptance of the General wishes. "The ships and scanners are a start. We need to get rid of the Etagllot. It's the only way to ensure everyone is safe."

"That is truth, Archangel." The General's arm uncrossed. "Your friend Xavier was quite helpful. While he has no reason to trust me, he did. Tell him I understand that and appreciate the extension of trust."

"I will do that."

Gtar-Cro shifted toward Warren. "Archangel, know that I will do everything within my power to ensure your safety. I will not fail you a third time."

Warren sensed shame mixed with determination from the Turzent. Twice now under Gtar-Cro's watch Warren had been abducted. 'God, why is my life such a trouble magnet?' he wondered. 'Perhaps I should have warned Gtar-Cro about the Worthington curse!' He could only hope that the General hadn't lost all confidence just when Ztar and the Empire needed him most. "General, shit happens. We do our best to avoid it, but sometimes it blindsides us. The kidnappings are one of those things. I've spent most of my life living on borrowed time and I accept that bad things happen when you stand in the crosshairs. You are a man of honor and conviction and I trust you to do your best to ensure not only my safety, but the security of rest of the Court, Earth, and the Empire."

Warren added a quick smile to reinforce his affirmation of confidence as he leaned in toward General, resting his elbows on the man's desk. "These are exceptional times and extenuating circumstances. Three enemies have struck us hard when we are our most vulnerable – during the transition when resources are stretched thin. Now is not the time to second-guess ourselves. Ztar needs you to be at the top of your game and not hesitant because of self-doubt and shaken confidence."

He paused to study the man's face and found what might be surprise at Warren's candor. "Our enemies must find in the Royal Court of Ztar strength built on a solid foundation of trust, unity, and common purpose. They will try to undermine our strength by eroding its foundation. Do not let the enemy win that psychological battle – it will destroy us from within." Warren sat back slowly, never taking his eyes off Gtar-Cro's face. The General was not easy to read, his military background and position required him to be unrevealing, yet Warren could detect subtle flickers of emotion in the whiteless eyes.

"I see more clearly than ever why our Emperor holds you in such high regard, Archangel. We forged an empire based on the very strength and foundation of which you speak. The Royal Court of Ztar is unity _embodied_. You speak truth when you say that must hold. Our Emperor told me clearly his faith in MI has not wavered. I will honor his confidence by not discarding my own. This I vow to you, Archangel of the Royal Court of Ztar."

Warren put on his best smile. It was the first time another court member had used his official court title and coming from the General, it was a show of respect. "I accept your vow. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a comm call to make to another man of honor on Earth."

###

As soon as he completed a cursory review of the report Gtar-Cro loaded to his PI, Warren activated the comm for Xavier, hoping the man was near the comlink. More quickly than Warren had thought possible, Xavier's face shown on his viewscreen.

"Warren, thank the lord you are safe!" the elder man exclaimed. "Are you well? Where are you? Did the Etagllot harm you? How did you escape? Where are you now? General Gtar-Cro gave me no details." The telepath asked his questions in rapid succession.

Warren smiled. He rarely saw Xavier so emotional that he nearly stumbled over his own words. The man had been extremely worried, that was clear. "I'm fine, Professor. I don't really remember much of what they did, but I'm in one piece. And our escape was quite impressive if I must say so myself. We even managed to steal their ship! The Etagllot didn't know who they were dealing with." Warren chuckled to convey levity as reassurance to his old friend that he was indeed no worse for wear.

"Please, tell me everything. Many here are waiting for every detail. Scott, Hank, and the others all wish they could be with you right now, as do I. You should come home, Warren. Leave Ztar and return to Earth."

Warren anticipated Xavier would try to convince him to leave even more adamantly after Ymoz. Charles didn't understand Warren's decision to stay nor did he agree with it. Charles likely believed Ztar was subtly controlling him telepathically and that's why he stayed, though Xavier had never stated that belief bluntly.

"Professor, I know you feel it would be better for me if I return, but my work here isn't done. For the same reasons I mentioned before, I need to stay. Ztar's making progress – I see the changes as the weeks go by." Then Warren sidestepped the issue. "You should have seen him in action on Ymoz – he's a force to be reckoned with. If not for Ztar, I'd still be at the Etagllot facility, at least until Gtar-Cro had gotten there."

Xavier's face showed concern and perhaps anger at Warren's praise of Ztar, and Warren knew he should not have said what he had.

"Warren, you would not have been at the facility in the first place if not for Ztar. And Earth would be free and independent if not for Ztar. The past five-plus years would have seen you well and happy here on Earth if not for Ztar. My friend, do not forget what the man has done to you. He does not deserve your admiration."

Warren closed his eyes briefly to collect his thoughts. This was not an argument he wanted right now. "Professor, I believe I'll be able to leave soon; then all this will be behind us." Changing the subject, Warren continued. "I was briefed about mutants possibly being taken from Earth by the Etagllot, but I'd like to hear everything from your perspective."

Charles felt Warren had once again brushed his concerns aside about the influence Ztar had over him, but he let it go. At least Warren was thinking about returning home.

"It appears as though the Etagllot are interested in more than you and the nannites. There have been numerous unexplainable disappearances, especially this past year. All the cases are low-profile mutants, people who wouldn't raise undue attention. We've identified 63 possible cases of unexplainable disappearances from around the world."

"And you believe as well the Etagllot are abducting them?"

"It seems a reasonable conclusion. To his credit, Gtar-Cro raised the possibility. If he hadn't, we still might be unaware as to what was occurring. Even if we had put the pieces together, I doubt anyone would have considered alien abduction as a plausible explanation."

His heart grew sick all over again at the thought of fellow humans at the unmerciful hands of the Etagllot researchers. "We've got to do something," Warren stated the obvious.

"Gtar-Cro has two ships and scanning satellites within our system to act as a deterrent to any further kidnappings, yet he said they cannot guarantee complete safety. If the Etagllot are determined enough, they may still find a way to get what they want." Xavier watched the face of his friend. "Warren, can we trust this General Gtar-Cro to find our people? If not, I will call in others to assist whether the Turzents like it or not."

"I believe we can, Professor. The General is an honorable man. And if he is hesitant, he follows Ztar's orders and Ztar will not let this rest. His hatred of the Etagllot goes way back. Ztar and Gtar-Cro actually thought they had eradicated that organization many years ago. They'll keep at it until they are successful."

"I hope they remember to bring our people back alive."

"If any of them are still alive," he replied desperately hoping his gut feeling on that was wrong.

Xavier said nothing in return. He, too, felt it may be too late for many of the abductees. "Just another legacy of Turzent presence." Charles couldn't help the cutting words.

Warren suddenly felt defensive of Ztar. "Charles, this is not their fault – not Ztar's fault. The Etagllot are enemies of the Turzents. Without or without Earth being in the Empire, the Etagllot likely would have found Earth at some point. At least now we have the resources of the Turzent Empire to help us fight the threat."

Charles sighed with renewed concern for Warren. "Perhaps, or perhaps we would have gone undetected by the Etagllot for many years. Please, my friend, step back and take a fresh look at the situation with the Turzents. You will find they are not the friends you've come to believe they are."

Frustration edged in. Of course, the Professor's perspective would be very different from Warren's. Charles hadn't live with Ztar; hadn't witnessed the change. But the Empire was changing and it wasn't so much the Turzents as it was Ztar who had started out as the enemy. He ordered the acquisition of Earth nearly six of its years ago. Now the man who had claimed Earth and took Warren no longer existed.

"Professor, can you trust me on this issue? I live with these people – with the Emperor. They are no longer the threat they once were. We _can_ consider the Turzents allies, if not friends."

Charles' heart sank with the words. Warren was so completely under Ztar's influence he couldn't see the truth. "Warren, until the Turzents return Earth to our free and independent status and relinquish all claims to our space, I cannot consider them allies or friends. They took us forcibly and still hold us."

Warren remained silent. Charles had a valid point, yet at the same time, Earth was also gaining Turzent protection. Under the new government, Earth could very well be put on the "no contact" list and completely off limits to the rest of the Empire. Life would continue to go about its merry way as if the Empire didn't exist. On the other hand, Earth System would still be part of the Empire, still claimed by the Turzents against its will. Would Ztar go so far as to do as Charles wanted and relinquish all claims to Earth? Perhaps Warren should ask directly.

"He has never said whether a wholly independent Earth was a possibility or not, to be honest. I'll approach Ztar with that, Professor."

Charles would take that as a step in the right direction. Perhaps influence ran both ways and Warren could persuade Ztar to let Earth go completely. "Thank you, Warren. In the meantime, we'll use the resources of the Empire to our purposes and hope they can free us from the Etagllot threat."

"Agreed. I will keep a watchful eye on their progress. At least I have a ring-side seat."

Charles smiled. Now his friend was beginning to sound a bit more like himself.

"Prof, I have a file to send to your comlink. It is a report on what Gtar-Cro's people have learned of the Etagllot threat. Ztar said I should share it with you. Perhaps it will provide something we can use. I'll comm again when I have more news," Warren promised.

"Likewise. We are doing what we can here to confirm how many of the 63 missing persons may have other explanations or how many others may have been taken."

When Warren ended the call, he sat back and rolled the conversation over in his mind. Charles held no positive feelings toward the Turzents or Ztar. Understandable. For the first time, Warren truly appreciated the stress Charles and the other privy Earth leaders must have felt, and perhaps still endured, not knowing from one day to the next whether he would continue to uphold his side of the Accord. If he didn't, Earth would be quickly overwhelmed by the Turzents and become an occupied labor planet. That fear must have weighed heavy on those individuals who knew the price of Warren's refusal to submit. Five plus years of uncertainty with Earth's future resting on a single individual who they would know felt betrayed and abandoned.

'And it took you how many years to fully appreciate their perspective and constant anxiety?' Warren chastised himself. 'Living under that uncertainty must have been unbelievably difficult. Little wonder Charles is bitter. You weren't the only one suffering, Worthington,' he chastised himself.

### --- ###

That night, Ztar simply wanted to snuggle with his beloved. It felt reassuring on some deep level when Archangel wrapped himself around Ztar. They had talked of things of little consequence preferring to leave the bed untainted of troubling issues. Yet now after Archangel had drifted off under Ztar's gently stroking down the length of a wing, his mind became conflicted. Some day Archangel would leave him and evenings like these would be no more. That day may be approaching far too quickly.

Restlessness was stirring in his companion. While Ztar did not probe, if he focused his empathic senses keenly enough it came through. The cause wasn't hard to guess – Archangel's longing for home and for a pairing more natural to him. While gender preferences ran both ways in most Turzents, Ztar understood that wasn't the case in many humans. Archangel had set his proclivity aside for Ztar's sake. He loved the human for that, but it wasn't something a long-term future could be built upon. Archangel knew that and said he'd stay only until Ztar no longer needed him.

As much as Ztar tried to deny and delay the evitable, he was growing less needful. While it hadn't released its grip completely, need of the human had loosened its hold. His emotional core was becoming slowly stronger week by week, month by month. For the moment, however, the mighty and confident ruler of the Turzent Empire still had within him a small child that simply longed to be loved and accepted for who and what he was. To be loved unconditionally. To have those unmet needs from his difficult childhood finally satisfied. Archangel came so close to satisfying that longing, yet his caring was one step removed from complete fulfillment – the human did not truly love Ztar as a lifemate should.

'I still need you Archangel…for a while,' he reflected, smiling down at the man sleeping peacefully in his arms. It was a smile of happiness laced with sadness. He felt bonded to Archangel on a deep level, but it appeared to be a one-way connection that would likely remain as such. Ztar wasn't ready, though, to live without what Archangel _was_ capable of giving him both physically and emotionally.

There was another feeling he had noticed within Archangel the past weeks that Ztar wasn't certain about – conflict perhaps or an emotional divergence. Occasionally, flickers of something transmitted, but Archangel was either consciously or unconsciously suppressing whatever that something might be. It was so tempting to peek into Archangel's mind for clarification – a little breach of privacy he'd never know about.

'No, Ztar, that is dishonorable,' he reminded himself. It was one thing to probe a mind when safety and security were at stake, another matter entirely to do so in personal curiosity, particularly when it would be a blatant breach of trust. 'A path of deceitfulness you don't want to start down, mighty Emperor,' he warned himself sternly.

Yet the flashes and emotional whispers piqued his curiosity. His heart hoped it was a sign that Archangel's heart was taking that one final step, but he tempered his dream. Logic said that was improbable. Sukja had cautioned him also about unrealistic expectations. 'Best to accept what Archangel offers and be content with that rather than building up hopes of what likely can never be.' He'd attempt to heed his own words, but yearnings of the heart were a hard thing to quell.

He ever so softly slid his hand down the outstretched wing as far as he could reach. 'So beautiful, my Archangel, within and without. The gods blessed me beyond my wildest dreams when they brought you to me. How I wish it had happened differently.' The painful guilt of past cruelties was sharp. 'Do you forgive me? _Can_ you forgive me? I am uncertain I will ever forgive myself.' And then the tears welled and he bit back the threatening sobs of deep remorse and shame.

To thwart the tears, he turned his mind to other thoughts. Images of Archangel during their escape from Ymoz did the trick. Archangel was indeed a warrior. He had known it before, but actually seeing him in action made it real. And had their battle involved hand-to-hand combat, Ztar believed Archangel would have seriously kicked some Etagllot ass, as the human would likely phrase it. That brought a smile to Ztar's face. 'My fierce Archangel.'

With those images came a flood of need to protect his lover. The people who touched him, harmed him – they would pay dearly. 'Vengeance will be mine if it takes my last breath!' he vowed. He would find and destroy Hercjell and her Etagllot superiors. "No one hurts you and lives," Ztar said aloud but quietly as to not disturb Archangel.

Gently pulling Archangel tighter to him caused the man to stir. Ztar brushed the golden hair soothingly and Archangel returned to full slumber. 'As fierce as you may be, my love, I will do whatever is necessary to keep you safe.'

His eyes traveled down the body that never failed to ignite his desire. So sensual, so able to fulfill his every sexual want. Yet a body also capable of what he saw on Ymoz. The images conjured contrasted and conflicted within the Turzent. Not since his military days had he taken a bedmate quite so…headstrong. As he considered that, he realized their arguments came down to that – Ztar's will versus Archangel's. But Ztar was the lead in their relationship and he acted accordingly. And he was Emperor – the position almost required him to be in the dominant role. He _wanted_ to be dominant – to protect and shield and take care of the human. To be the provider. It was Ztar's nature. It was his duty.

Thinking of duty returned his contemplations to the Etagllot. It was an Emperor's obligation to ensure the safety of all citizens of his realm. In the morning, Ztar and his two military commanders would meet to discuss the next steps in the new war against the Etagllot. It would be a war of spies and covert operations. Ztar almost preferred tangible war where you simply blasted the enemy out of existence – it was less complicated.

He sighed deeply, closing his eyes. The governmental transition couldn't conclude fast enough. Imperial resources were stretched too thin already. He prayed they wouldn't reach the breaking point. With that troubling thought, he allowed sleep to free him from his burdens for a little while.

### --- ###

"We're leaving for Sat'rey immediately," Ztar announced to Warren as he entered their suite after the morning meeting with Gtar-Cro and Rehsaw. "Mi-Lartui is ready to depart."

"Anxious to get home?" he asked scanning the Turzent's face.

"Yes, to where you're safest from the Etagllot."

"They wouldn't try anything so soon after."

"Likely true. I'm taking no chances," the Emperor elaborated without stopping on his way to the bathroom.

The last statement reinforced Warren's concern about Ztar becoming overprotective. The Turzent already had a control issue. Would the Etagllot threat intensify it?

Warren sighed quietly and stood up from where he'd been relaxing in their guest chambers. "It will be good to get back to the palace. Does anyone there know what really happened or were they all told the same thing as the comnet?"

Ztar snatched up a couple items from the bathroom counter and headed back through their suite. "Most know only the explanation given in media statement. Lar is naturally aware. I've told Sukja that Atichi can be informed."

"Good decision about Atichi. It'd be so easy for something to slip out – better she knows upfront," Warren was pleased that his and Sukja's common confidante would be in the loop. But there was another friend he'd like in the know.

"I'd like to tell Moit'de, too," he said to Ztar's back as the man neared the door.

Ztar stopped and turned to face Warren. "That is not wise."

"But he's a friend."

"He's palace staff."

"He's still my friend."

"I'm sorry, but no. Palace staff aside from Lar is not to know for security reasons."

"Yet Atichi can know? That makes no sense."

"I've made my decision."

Warren crossed his arms and stared hard at the Emperor. "He can be trusted – he's proven that."

Ztar straightened to his full seven-foot height. "Palace staff is _not_ to know."

The finality of the statement came through loud and clear. Warren kept a tight hold on his rising anger; he really didn't feel like fighting. He'd try a different angle. "And when Sukja asked if Atichi could know, what made you decide differently?" Warren didn't know if Sukja had actually asked Ztar, but it was a reasonable assumption.

"Atichi has been privy to Sukja's confidences for many years and has proven herself trustworthy. I know this firsthand. I cannot say the same for Moit'de."

"I trust him. Isn't that enough?"

"Not in matters such as these."

Warren forced himself to see Ztar's perspective. He had known Atichi for many years. Moit'de was just another head of staff and before Warren, likely not privy to royal court secrets. 'Back off for now,' he told himself. "I'll do as commanded." He placed emphasis on commanded. That's what really got his goat. Once again, Ztar decided – no real discussion, no mutual agreement.

Ztar nodded curtly and headed to the door. Warren followed swallowing his irritation.

### --- ###

"So you see, Director, why I come to you with deep concerns about the incident on Ymoz." al'Verta had taken a proactive approach and visited her superior before they had a chance to order her to him. The tactic had served her well in the past. Not only did it send the right messages to her superiors, but gave her a slight edge in the discussion psychologically. They saw her at her request; she wasn't being commanded to appear. Naturally, she had no idea what the Ymoz facility's head of security Jmaricz may have already said or how adept he was at shedding blame, but she would not stand by idly and become the scapegoat for the debacle that was Ymoz.

She continued when the Director said nothing. "In hindsight, perhaps I should have been more involved in facility security. This assignment may have been too much of a stretch for Jmaricz given the high-risk subjects. Though to be generous, certain details were unknown to him." Like Archangel's obvious combat skills and the extent of the human's extraordinary physical resilience. Why that was the case continued to puzzle her. Perhaps the Director would lend insight.

The man sitting across his large desk from her was powerful and not easily manipulated or fooled and he eyed her carefully. "No, Head Researcher. Facility security was not your responsibility. What _does_ concern me is that your methods of controlling the test subjects were not fully effectual."

She had anticipated this issue would be the one thing they may try to pin on her. "Director, as you know from my reports, at the time of the escape, both subjects were sedated in accordance with standard protocols. In addition, I enhanced those protocols given the nature of our subjects. In the human, his metabolism and regenerative abilities required heavy and continuous dozes of our most powerful sedatives. In addition, I rotated and combined sedatives as his body adapted and compensated. For the Turzent, given his known telepathic and suspected empathic abilities, I ordered a blend of anti-psychics in stronger than recommended dosages. Director, my precautions were sound, and given what we knew at the time, someone else may have even considered them overly aggressive – hardly lax by any definition. I well understood the risks involved and acted accordingly."

"Then how do you explain their escape?" the man pressed with intense scrutiny.

Hercjell had been on the hot seat before and she remained unfazed. "When all other possibilities are eliminated, it comes down to either inside assistance or malfunctioning equipment. In spite of aggressive controls, Ztar regained his faculties and orchestrated an escape. Obviously, the question is how. Even if the psy-drugs were less than completely effective, the dampeners should have negated the resultant problem. I have inquired and even our best psy-damp technologist is at a loss to explain how the Turzent could overcome the dampeners if they were indeed functioning properly. Since that equipment was destroyed along with the facility, we have no way of ascertaining whether or not they were operating correctly, and so that theory cannot be validated. The only other reasonable explanation is inside assistance – but who? Migiun perhaps? We know she did not join our ranks as the most willing recruit."

The Director sat back in his chair in an almost thoughtful pose; some of the hardness in his body language seemed to be easing. She was making headway?

"The telepath Migiun has been heavily probed. Nothing was found to indicate that she was anything but a pawn under Ztar's control," the man shared. "However, so much of her memory was wiped that doubt cannot be erased."

"That act alone raises suspicions."

"Or can be used to our advantage," the Director offered vaguely.

Hercjell wasn't interested in the fate of the resident telepath, so she did not press the issue. "Then that still leaves us with either malfunctioning or only partially functioning dampeners," Hercjell continued. "Given how powerful Ztar's abilities appear to be, I would suggest the equipment was functioning _near_ peak, providing Ztar limited psychic maneuvering room – just enough to allow him to take over a mind in close proximity. And when Migiun took control of Ztar's body during the tests, it could have been the opening he needed. If I were the Emperor, I would have chosen the telepath as my marionette for obvious reasons. She would be the perfect tool to wield in his escape."

The Director indicated his agreement with a slight motion of his hand. "I agree that malfunctioning dampeners is the most reasonable explanation. I, too, have not heard of any telepath capable of operating while in a fully functioning dampening field. Either that or the Turzent is a far more advanced telepath than we've yet encountered. However, malfunctioning equipment does not explain how he became conscious enough to use his abilities."

"My concerns exactly, Director. I used all the accepted protocols for controlling even the most powerful of telepaths and went a step beyond that. None of our monitoring indicated that he had reached a level of consciousness to be able to do what he did. Not once did we raise him above an induced coma. If Ztar was able to function under those circumstances, albeit in a limited manner, then we may need to re-examine our protocols. Is it possible Ztar is a new form of telepath; one who can operate despite drugs and dampeners? Or is there more to his other mutations or augmentation than we know?"

The Director leaned forward once again, resting his arms on his desk in an open position, indicating to Hercjell he had moved to her side of the situation. "Your first question raises intriguing and disturbing possibilities. If that is indeed the case, then he may not be the only one and we perhaps are witness to an evolution of psychic ability – telepaths that we cannot control with current methods. The second possibility is also a reasonable explanation. His own natural mutations or perhaps even our augmentation of him allowed Ztar to overcome some of the drug effects to the point he was able to reach a level of awareness where he could employ his abilities – a state of consciousness current monitoring technology does not detect."

"And if the psy-dampeners we were not fully functional…"

"Ztar had his opportunity." The Director brought his hands together, a gesture Hercjell knew meant the Director was closing the issue in his mind. "I am satisfied for now that you performed your duties with competence and prudence. Nothing in your report or in the reports of the other Ymoz staff indicates otherwise. Unless we uncover fact to the contrary, we have a reasonable theory to explain the escape." The Director himself seemed relieved that a plausible theory could be forwarded to the highest level of the organization.

Hercjell breathed a silent sigh. She may just have dodged a career-ending phase blast.

"Understand, Researcher, the investigation has not yet concluded and you likely will be questioned by others. However, for the immediate future, I have a new assignment for which your talents are exceptionally well suited. You will leave for Hydeera in two days. The project briefing reports will be sent to your PI shortly."

Hercjell was slightly surprised at the location, but said nothing as she rose and bowed slightly. "Thank you for your confidence, Director. In the future, if there is an opportunity to unravel the secrets of the human's bionites, I remain keenly interested in that challenge."

The Director stood, signaling the end of the conversation. "One project at a time, Head Researcher."

al'Verta left the Director's office feeling triumphant. While not as yet completely free and clear, she was very close. She headed back to her room eager to read the briefing on the Hydeera project.

###

The Director of Biotechnology sat back in his chair, bringing his hands together in his lap. Ymoz was a disaster and he was taking a lot of heat from the people he reported to, including the Prime Director herself. Yet they all approved the operation and the exceptional degree of risk involved. To most of them, the opportunity to exact revenge on the man who had nearly destroyed everything they had spent decades building had been too tempting. A very harsh fate had been planned for Ztar once the research on Ymoz concluded.

Then the seemingly impossible happened despite all safeguards and precautions – Ztar was free, along with the human who housed technology they desperately wanted for Project One. When they first learned of the bionites hosted by the insignificant Earthling, it was as if the universe had given nod to their endeavor. Technology so advanced that it completely transformed a being from one condition to another without destroying its original form, as witnessed by the human's return to his natural state. Add to that what Hercjell discovered about the bionites connection to the human's lifeforce. Then an even more exciting possibility was uncovered that either the bionites or the person who created them had the ability to clone one being's lifeforce and sub-impose it on another being. If true, that was god-like power!

But in a devastating blow, that technology had slipped through their fingers and the lost was profound. So much had ridden on the Ymoz research – it had held promise of becoming the centerpiece project in many projects to make the dream a reality. Instead, the organization had been fully revealed and Ztar given confirmation that they survived and flourished. How much the Emperor would learn over the coming months could be substantial, particularly if his intelligence arm infiltrated the Par-Sen System, the current seat of Etagllot power.

More than one perplexity troubled the Director, not the least of which was the briefing Officer Jmaricz had relied upon for establishing facility security protocols for Ymoz. The holes in that report were unexplainable and out of character for the usually meticulous Etagllot security service. Did someone within the organization intentionally withhold information on the human? To what end? So many little coincidences led to the escape of Ztar and the human. Almost too many for chance.

The Director shook his head. While the situation was an intensely worrisome, he could personally contribute little to resolving the crisis. Security was not his department and he'd have to rely on others to safeguard him and his staffs. But while dependent on others for safety, it didn't mean had to trust them. From this point forward, he would be much more vigilant.

Thoughts of staff brought him back to Hercjell al'Verta. She was as brilliant as her reputation. Though relatively new to the role of Head Researcher, she had been the right choice for Ymoz. Her understanding of bio-energies and bionite augmentation was unsurpassed amongst Etagllot scientists. She had enough ruthlessness in her to have climbed to her current position in near record time. Others may be blind to her manipulations and maneuverings, but he was not. The Director admired her for those traits and so he allowed her to win her games and believe she was controlling her own career. He was the one working the strings in reality, ensuring her success within the organization. He saw the future in Hercjell. One day she may actually sit in his chair, but that was many years away. He had much for her to learn before that could happen.

For now, the Director was satisfied that he and Hercjell would be of a one voice regarding the incident on Ymoz and felt confident in his ability to protect his unwitting apprentice from anyone who may attempt to hold Ymoz against her.

The man returned to the report he had been reviewing before his meeting with Hercjell. One particular longstanding Etagllot investigation had almost become an obsession and he followed its progress with passion. While not as yet directly related to Project One, it had potential. The investigation had actually started many decades ago, long before the current Turzent Empire or even the old Ta'oc Empire. Like all great archeological searches, this one spanned regimes, time, and individual seekers.

Legend spoke of the Etxan'Ir, which roughly translated to Library of All Knowledge, a massive repository of data gathered throughout the eons from all corners of the galaxy, and perhaps beyond. The mythical library was credited to a race of peoples long lost to history, the U'larr. Legend also referenced their emissaries called the Eshaaru who gathered scientific data and cultural knowledge and delivered it to the library for the U'larr catalog and safeguard.

A few reports here and there through time suggested that perhaps some of the Eshaaru race still lived in the galaxy. Many seekers of Etxan'Ir theorized the secretive Eshaaru continued to guard the library. The Etagllot also believed the library to be real and the long lost race of U'larr to have left Etxan'Ir hidden away. Omnipotent, a decades old Etagllot project, was dedicated to finding Etxan'Ir or any surviving Eshaaru.

Currently, the assigned investigators were following a very old lead. They had uncovered an archived posting on a mythology and paranormal comnet exchange that excitedly claimed an Esserru had been spotted on Gamas I. A respected shop owner posted the exchange entry 15 standard years ago.

It wasn't often they found leads claiming an Esserru sighting and the Director dived into the details of the report with anticipation. The report detailed the investigators' interview with the sighting claimant, a man named Tharmys, who still owned his Gamas I shop. He was apparently delighted to share his story once again and recounted the events of that day eagerly.

It was late and Tharmys was leaving his shop when two cloaked figures passed by hurriedly. From the height difference, he surmised it was an adult and young child. Tharmys stated normally he wouldn't have paid much attention to the pair, except his empathic senses told him something was amiss, picking up on feelings of foul play from two men many paces behind the figures. Then he focused on the adult and child and realized he could not read them – nothing. It was if they were not really there – like ghosts.

Out of curiosity and concern for the apparent child, he dropped in behind the two men shadowing the cloaked duo. When the adult glanced backward, he felt it realized they were being followed and quicken the pace. Seeing them duck into the next side street, Tharmys had grown alarmed knowing it was a dead-end. The two were trapped as the men turned the corner also. Tharmys reported being torn between going to their aid and running to comm for help. For some reason, he chose the former and rounded the corner into the short street many seconds behind.

What Tharmys saw next stopped him in his tracks. At the end of the short alley, bathed in a pool of light from the street lamp, stood the woman, cloak discarded at her feet. She was a creature of such beauty and majesty it nearly brought tears to his eyes. Tall and lithe with a crown of golden hair that appeared to almost glow. What captivated him most was the pair of huge, brilliantly white wings spread wide behind her. Then, with the child in her arms, she leapt into the air in a beat of wings, rush of wind, and swirling dust and was gone into the darkness. All three men stood dumbstruck. Once he regained his senses, the shopkeeper slipped out of the alley, certain that the other two men never saw him. The report stated Tharmys was firm in his conviction that he had seen an Esserru from Turzent legend even after 15 years, the report noted.

The Director's double-heart quickened. If the man saw what he reported, then it was very possible he'd seen precisely what he believed – an Esserru. Or more accurately, an Eshaaru.

He delved into the rest of the report with enthusiasm. The investigators next reviewed Etagllot records of past Omnipotent searches and found that the two men tailing the woman and child were likely Etagllot operatives. Oddly enough, shortly after that incident, the two agents suspected of being the ones Tharmys followed went missing and never found. In fact, their reported disappearance in Etagllot records was less than 24 standard hours after the comnet posting by shopkeeper Tharmys. There was no indication that the agents filed any report on their encounter before they disappeared.

Somewhere in the bureaucracy of the Etagllot organization at the time, whatever lead the two missing agents were following on Gamas I was forgotten. He shook his head in disbelief until he realized what was happening that time. Ztar had come into power and their arch nemesis was beginning his war on the Etagllot. The next three years were nightmarish as Etagllot members were hunted and slaughtered like animals. No wonder the lead was lost. That was until now.

The next many paragraphs outlined lead after old lead the current investigators followed. Bits of memories of a mysterious male and female who had antiquities for sale of extremely fine quality and value. One shopkeeper even remembered a referral he given to the couple to a colleague from his teaching days, an antiquities professor named Bhenra Juxur on Sat'rey. At some point, people recalled the male was not seen again and then female came alone to pedal her wares. After a while, the woman also stopped coming to Gamas I.

As the report concluded, the operatives were on their way to Sat'rey to locate Professor Juxur. Glancing at the date, the Director realized with a jerk that the report was several weeks old. What had been learned? Instinct told him they were on to something. He'd learned to trust those instincts over the years. Often he'd felt a touch of precognitive ability. Right now, the feelings were strong.

All this brought him back to Ymoz and the human called Archangel. Yes, Archangel looked very much like an Eshaaru, but his DNA was decidedly of Earth. Hercjell's preliminary findings collaborated the data they had mined from Earth concerning the human's genetic makeup. So while Archangel resembled the lost people Omnipotent sought, he was not one of them. The Director had been extremely disappointed with that news.

Yet instinct nudged him. Then just to be thorough, he reopened Hercjell's research files on the human. Maybe she missed something.

### --- ###

_Okay readers, what do you think? Needs work? Okay as is? I may still revise and repost it at a later date – we'll see._

_Chapter 9 is coming together much more easily – thank goodness! With Ymoz behind us, the story returns to more inward perspectives. Those of you who love that aspect of our saga – we'll be back to the emotional tension and drama once again next segment. Preview: Ztar struggles with old traumas resurfacing, Atichi shares an uncomfortable observation with Warren, and more intrigue surrounding Gtar-Cro's second._


	9. Chapter 9

_I must say, this chapter's final editing went much more easily than the previous one. Thank goodness! We're back to the emotional issues once again – colliding wills, emotional aftermath of Ymoz, and worries over Warren's state of mind driving Charles to a decision. Throw in a bit more intrigue about the Etagllot/kidnapping situation, and I hope we have a satisfying installment for everyone. _

_Thank you to all the reviewers who've taken the time and energy to post thus far – I SO much appreciate it. You make my day with each review!_

**Chapter 9**

"My Emperor!" Myrundra's face revealed her enormous relief. "Our prayers were answered with your safe return."

Ztar nodded. "That they were." He studied her face in more detail. What he saw caused concern. "Jharda, I trust you did not overtax yourself during the incident. You are still recovering."

The expression changed to one of irritation. "Hardly. Gtar-Cro kept me and Stjarmas'de in seclusion and graced us with periodic updates. When we were needed most, he practically neutralized us!" The words and tone were filled with indignation.

Gtar-Cro had explained exactly how he had maneuvered the court members into their roles in the cover story. With the General's emergency powers in full force, they had no option but to follow his orders. Ztar knew all too well how that would have gone over with his planetary liaison. He would not argue with Myrundra over the point – he agreed with Gtar-Cro's actions. In the case of Jharda, it also kept the still healing court member mostly out of the action.

"The General performed exactly as I would have commanded," he said with an imperial tone to squelch any further complaints. "And now that the crisis is over, you will return to the job at hand." He saw her face light up and knew exactly what she was thinking – that he was going to say she could return to her duties. "You will focus on mending, Jharda, physically and mentally. Your staff will continue to act in your stead until the physicians tell me you are ready to return to duty."

The face was crestfallen. "Emperor, I _am_ ready. The past several days proved that."

Ztar leaned closer to the viewscreen. "No," he said firmly, then he let his face go soft. "I have enough experience with the aftereffects of events such as you survived to know it takes much longer to heal than you believe. Do the work now to heal fully mentally as well as physically, Jharda. If you do not, the trauma to your spirit will not be resolved and will affect you in ways you cannot imagine right now."

Jharda was silent for many moments, somewhat out of character for his fast-on-her-feet court member. He saw her sigh deeply. "As you command," she finally said. It was her way of making a point.

He smiled. "Then in our next comm, I will expect to hear how you've finally begun the therapy your physician ordered." Immediately he read the subtle signs of defiance. 'Perhaps I didn't completely win on that issue,' he sighed to himself.

The balance of the highly-secure comm they spent with Ztar retelling how he and Archangel had escaped the clutches of the Etagllot as Jharda sat mesmerized.

### --- ###

Warren sat at Atichi's small dining table in her living quarters above the shop two days after their return to Sat'rey. She had begged Warren to come as soon as he was feeling up for it, promising hot tanquer root tea and zante – two of his favorites. He had already shared the highlights and lowlights of their nabbing as Atichi listened with rapt attention.

"Praise Ozja you're both safely with us!" she exclaimed, giving thanks to the god both she and Sukja believed in. "It is a miracle you escaped." Atichi shook her head. "I can't believe there are scientists who would do such things. They are no better than terrorists and torturers!" she spat out in obvious contempt.

"I agree, Atichi. I hope that Gtar-Cro and his people can get to the bottom of the Etagllot and destroy that organization once and for all," Warren wished as he popped the last of his third zante into his mouth.

Atichi smiled at him. "Would you care for another zante or perhaps something else?"

Warren was embarrassed when he realized how many of the sweets he'd polished off, but talking and munching just happened together. "Sorry, Atichi. Breakfast was a while ago." He grinned sheepishly. Thankfully, Ztar wasn't there to witness or he would have had to endure the usual teasing.

"And emotionally, how are you recovering?" she asked softly.

He thought a moment. "Actually, there's not too much to recover from. I don't have many memories of the incident before our escape."

She tilted her head and locked their eyes. "We don't have to recall trauma to be affected by it."

"As in subconscious memories?" She nodded. "Maybe down the road there'll be something, but right now I'm fine."

"You're certain of that? This hasn't stirred up any emotions from the terrorist kidnapping?"

Warren swallowed. He did have one nightmare two nights ago about that incident when he hadn't in quite some time. "Some maybe, but the two incidents are so different."

"Perhaps not as different as you imagine. Both kidnappings left you out of control of what was happening to you," the elder woman pointed out gently, placing a warm hand tenderly over Warren's wrist. He flashed back to their talk months ago when she'd done the same thing and it had cracked open the lid of the pit he'd thrown all the emotional garbage into and sealed up tightly – or so he had believed. That simple laying on of her hand resulted in an emotional eruption and he'd spilled his guts to her that day. Now though, it was just a comforting gesture.

"That is true, but this wasn't personal. The Etagllot simply wanted the technology I carry around. Emotionally, that makes all the difference."

She smiled tenderly and nodded. "I understand what you're saying, but the violation is there no matter how different and it may impact you in ways you don't yet know. If you ever wish to talk, know my door and my heart are always open."

The words were said with such compassion. 'Atichi is quite remarkable,' Warren thought to himself. He returned the smile. "Thanks, Atichi. That means a lot. It's Ztar I worry about. Being back in the hands of the Etagllot rattled him to his core whether he admits it or not."

"He is strong – he will recover as well," Atichi reassured, pulling away her hand. "And he has you and Sukja to help him through it."

"The Emperor was quite impressive in our escape. Being able to overcome the drugs and psychic dampeners was extraordinary. And then out in the desert…I hadn't seen him in action before, only the aftermath when he rescued Sukja and me from Drex. He's quite the powerhouse. I don't think I'd like to be on the receiving end of his abilities." Warren was still impressed at what Ztar managed on Ymoz.

Atichi looked thoughtful for a moment, taking a sip of tea. "There is a reason people fear him, Archangel. He can be a very deadly individual."

Warren was surprised by the statement. He had always gotten the impression that Atichi admired the Emperor, yet there was a hint of disapproval in her voice. "He's changed. Ztar isn't to be feared anymore unless you're someone like the Etagllot or the Mennisa Freedom Fighters."

She set her cup down. "He still has his weapons, Archangel. He is no less deadly than five years ago."

Now Warren was confused about the change in attitude. "What are you saying, Atichi?"

"He has used those abilities to inflict harm and fear in the past. That the capability is still there, whether he chooses to exercise it or not."

"That's my point. Anyone can be deadly if they choose to be, with or without extraordinary abilities. It's in the choosing not to use wanton violence that we separate ourselves from those who prefer the darker path. Ztar may have used violence and intimidation in the past, but look what he's doing now…how far he's come. He's changing his whole empire just as he has changed."

"But didn't you tell me he killed many people just months ago when he rescued you and Sukja? Couldn't he have simply rendered them unconscious?"

It was very unsettling to Warren. Atichi had never spoken ill of the Emperor to him before. Was she getting comfortable enough with him that her true feelings were showing? "It was an already violent situation and our lives were on the line. You know what Drex did to us. Ztar lived that pain through our empathic link. Can you honestly say you'd have done differently under the same circumstances? If you had felt what he felt from those you love?" Warren knew his justification was weak – to kill is nearly always a choice.

Atichi looked Warren in the eyes with a steady gaze. "You defend his actions after everything he did to you five years ago? Even little more than a year ago? After all the cruelty and abuse he inflicted on you? I remember what you told me months ago, Archangel. The pain I saw and heard in that telling was deep and intense. Yet here you are defending him to me."

She was beginning to sound like Xavier. He wouldn't let Warren forget Ztar's past transgressions either. "Atichi, you surprise me. I thought you believed in Ztar. You said yourself he was a good change from the old empire, especially for your homeworld. I don't understand…"

She leaned back and gave him a look he couldn't read. "What I'm trying to point out is that you've absolved in Ztar what most of us would not be able to. There is only one explanation for that much forgiveness."

'Here it comes,' he believed. 'She's going to say I've been brainwashed, just like Charles has implied.' Aloud he prompted, "And that is?"

She leaned toward him again and laid a hand over his that only then he realized was clenched into a fist. "You love him, Archangel. Only love could put aside that much hurt," she spoke with such gentleness that it took him a moment to understand fully what she was saying. When he did, he jerked physically and blinked at the Ozjaerian.

"I don't."

"What I think, my friend, is that you do…in ways and more deeply than you realize."

Warren wasn't ready to hear it said aloud. He did not love the Turzent like Atichi was implying. He couldn't. Care for Ztar, yes. Friendship love – he'd go that far. And he'd admit he enjoyed the sex despite being straight. But in love with the man? No, he was not.

Right?

Warren drew his hand away slowly. "Atichi, if I do, it's not how you believe. There is much I care about in him and he has become important to me, but I do not love him like you're suggesting."

The elder woman leaned back and a small smile crossed her face. "If that is what you wish to believe…"

"It's true. It is not in my nature to be in love with him. We've been through much together and it has created a bond of deep friendship, but that's where it ends." Warren wanted the conversation to be over; it was a little too uncomfortable. "Trust me on this, Atichi," he requested putting finality in his tone.

She looked thoughtful for several seconds. "We often have no say in whom we grow to love. The soul has no gender."

Warren wasn't sure he believed that. Actually, he'd never considered whether or not souls had gender. What he did know is that it was time for a new topic.

"Perhaps. What this soul needs right now, though, is a reheat on my tea," he said rising from the table to get the pot.

The balance of their visit was much more pleasurable for Warren, discussing the latest neighborhood news and goings on in Atichi's world. Sitting quietly during the short shuttle ride to the palace, Warren replayed the somewhat disconcerting conversation about his feelings toward Ztar. Her observation was off base, yet it had unnerved him. Why? A quick review of his own thoughts and feelings and he came to the same conclusion he always did. He was not in love with Ztar. Period.

### --- ###

Ztar woke with a start. Another bad dream. Looking over at Archangel, the human hadn't stirred. The soft light of the various control panels scattered about the room created just enough illumination that he could make out the face of the man sleeping peacefully at his side. He wanted to reach out and touch the beautifully handsome face, but feared waking him.

Ever so gently, Ztar slipped out of bed to shake off the remnants of the dream. It was his second since Ymoz and played out the same theme as the first. He lay strapped down on an exam table, unable to move. Etagllot scientists were conducting experiments and he was helpless to stop it. Episode two included Archangel. In the dream, Archangel lay equally helpless on a nearby slab but it wasn't really Archangel – it was Apocalypse's creation, Death, complete with blue-skin and steel wings. As the dream unfolded, the scientists took nannites from Death and injected them into Ztar. Searing pain filled him. In a mirror hung above the table, he watched in horror as he transformed into a grotesque version of himself. His cries evolved into unearthly growls as his body morphed. Skin turned to a thick hide of black. Teeth grew long and pointed. Nails turned into claws. Facial features became unrecognizable. What he saw in the mirror was a monster. He screamed with a demon's voice. Then he woke.

Moving quietly, he poured a glass of Raimami and settled into the lounge area. Sleep would not return quickly if at all. Reviewing the dream, he was impressed with how much symbolism his subconscious had packed into it. His old traumas at the hands of the Etagllot, his fear during the kidnapping that Archangel would be transformed into Death, his sometimes fear of backsliding and returning to the monster he once was – it was all there in the single dream. He shuddered.

'Thank the gods we escaped before the nannites were activated,' he thought once again as he gazed at Archangel's softly lit outline beneath the covers, one wing trailing out beyond the linens. 'If I had lost you…' The very idea chilled him to the core. "Do you truly understand how much I love you?" he whispered. "What you've done for me?" He took a sip of the strong drink and allowed his mind to drift away from the nightmare. 'The countless billions of our empire have no idea that it is you who is truly responsible for their new freedoms. If not for you, the Turzent Empire would be a very different place as I would be a very different emperor.'

He had told himself that before, but in the stillness of the night, in the wake of the dream where he became a true monster, full realization hit him with force and clarity. If not for Archangel, his Empire would not have evolved. The amazing power of a single individual to alter the course of history. Ztar shook his head in near disbelief. "My Archangel – my Esserru – what a miracle you've performed."

The human stirred at those spoken words, but then settled again quickly. A wave of love and gratitude nearly caused Ztar to break down. He would not, but he did allow a single tear to escape as he smiled toward Archangel. He watched his beloved sleep for a bit longer, then slipped out of their chambers and headed for his office to begin his day very early.

Warren opened his eyes after he heard Ztar leave. 'Another nightmare?' he wondered. Ztar had cried out in his sleep two nights running. When he spoke aloud, Warren nearly got up, but decided to give the Turzent his privacy. Perhaps, though, it was time to talk with Ztar about the Etagllot kidnapping. 'Old traumas reawakened by new? Not good.'

### --- ###

Warren and Sukja were enjoying what had become a rare lunch together. Ztar was busy in meetings all day and Sukja's presence wasn't required, so on Sukja's suggestion, the two decided to head to Yaunra for an extended lunch at one of Sukja's favorite places. They toyed with inviting Atichi, Niat, and Splythe, but decided against it.

"This place has a great atmosphere," Warren said looking around the restaurant. "Understated elegance softened with coziness."

Sukja nodded. "Reflects the owner. Chaite has a certain way about her – sophisticated, yet warm and welcoming."

Warren laughed. "Is there anyone in Yaunra you don't know?"

Sukja smiled. "In Atichi's neighborhood, if you know her, you eventually know nearly everyone else. I take no credit."

"That sounds like Atichi."

They ordered their food from the prompt waiter and then enjoyed sanui while waiting. Their table was tucked into a private corner of the restaurant where the guards felt most comfortable having them sit. It would also allow them to talk freely without fear of casual eavesdroppers.

"It seems we don't get a chance to shoot the breeze much anymore," Warren noted reaching for his glass.

Sukja wasn't familiar with the phrase and gave Archangel an inquisitive look.

"How's _life_, Sukja?" Warren asked more clearly after a sip of sanui. "Is your family healthy and happy? Did you get anytime to enjoy yourself before getting word of the kidnapping?"

"My family is indeed well and happy. I had just arrived and the welcoming party only begun when Gtar-Cro commed, but I managed to make it through the festivities without anyone realizing I wasn't quite myself. Except for my sister. She suspected immediately something was amiss."

"Damn Etagllot. You're whole vacation ruined! That alone should be a death sentence," Warren tried for levity.

"Agreed. One does not disrupt my vacation plans and expect leniency," he added with a chuckle, appreciating the humor.

"Are you going to try again for a visit home?"

Sukja shook his head. "Not for awhile. My sister is still recovering from the experience of having her house turned into a fortress. I'll let that fade a bit before suggesting another attempt."

"Speaking of recovering, how does Gtar-Cro seem to you? The three incidents this past year must have him rattled at a minimum. I'm a little worried for our stalwart General."

Sukja set his glass down. The comment of concern drove home just how much things had changed since Archangel arrived at the palace a little over a standard year ago. The human had become part of their Court not only in title, but perhaps emotionally as well. "His confidence has been undermined as you'd expect. Ztar is aware of that and has assured Gtar-Cro that his faith is unwavering. The rest is up to Gtar-Cro."

"I said the same thing to Gtar-Cro myself while on Sarrys and he indicated Ztar had reaffirmed his confidence in the General. I'm glad Ztar did that."

Sukja nodded. "The Emperor's is becoming better at dealing with issues of that nature. The old Ztar likely would have reacted very differently. He has matured." Sukja flashed a quick, appreciative grin at Archangel.

Warren read instantly into that grin and put his hands up. "Hey, you're the one who's worked on him for years. You deserve most of the credit for helping him reach his full potential." Warren considered Ztar's progress for a moment. 'Got a ways to go in the personal relationship area, though,' he added silently.

"We both helped the Emperor, but in different ways. This is an example of the combination of efforts being greater than any singular endeavor."

"The whole is greater than the sum of its parts." Warren offered the old saying.

Sukja thought for a moment and then understanding crossed his face. "That's it exactly. An adage from Earth?"

Warren nodded. "Hopefully Gtar-Cro will regain his confidence. It will help if MI can root out the Etagllot quickly."

"Expediency will indeed help, in more than one way. The Empire needs the problem to be dealt with quickly – this comes at the worst possible time."

"A fact I'm certain the Etagllot understand all too well. And what about Jharda? Ztar mentioned her recovery goes well, but when I asked about the mental trauma, it seems she's hesitant about getting professional guidance."

Sukja leaned back and took a deep sip from his glass. "Sounds like a couple people I know."

Warren eyed his dining partner. "Not quite the same. You and I had each other and Ztar. We went through that incident together and helped each other through the aftermath. Who does Jharda have? Everyone else around her died. Survivor's guilt alone can be crippling, let alone the trauma of losing body parts."

"I feel as you do. She should seek counseling, but she must _want_ it before it will be of benefit. Thus far, she does not."

"How much longer can Ztar keep her off active duty? There will come a point in time when delaying that becomes counterproductive."

"Technically, indefinitely. In practicality, no way to predict. He's hoping Jharda will come to see the wisdom of emotional therapy on her own." Sukja leaned in, set his glass down, and rested his arms on the table. "Speaking of mental traumas, how are you?"

"I am doing just fine, Sukja. Spotty memory is a good thing – spares you a lot of that." He swirled the ruby red sanui gently admiring its depth of color.

Sukja cocked his head. "Maybe, maybe not. Whether you remember specifics or simply imagine what they may have done, you were taken against your will and helpless to protect yourself. That equates to trauma."

Warren leaned back. "You know what? I think you and Atichi are in cahoots. Is that what our lunch is about?" He really wasn't mad at Sukja; the concern was touching, but the incident was over and he wanted to move on.

"Not entirely, though she did express her concern."

"Hah! I knew it." Warren leaned in, returned his glass to the table, and locked eyes with Sukja. "I am fine. It was a nasty incident in a string of nasty incidents in my life. On a scale of one to ten, this one ranks low – maybe a three at worst." He paused and pulled back. "I think Ztar is the one we need to be concerned about. He's not saying much, but the Etagllot got to him. He's having bad dreams."

Sukja saw no deception in Archangel's expression or body language about his own emotional state. He'd let it go. Archangel's concern for Ztar echoed his own, though. He'd been wondering what being in the hands of the Etagllot may have dredged up in the Emperor. As Archangel said, Ztar was being very uncommunicative on the issue.

"I wondered about that. His first time with the Etagllot was horrifying. This latest incident has likely stirred unresolved trauma."

"I'm going to talk with him. He's very good about insisting Jharda get counseling, but knowing him, he sees no reason to take his own advice."

Sukja took a sip of sanui. "All too true. Likely, any therapy will need to come from you and me…if he allows us."

The food arrived.

"Smells and looks delicious!" Warren exclaimed with enthusiasm. His stomach was on the verge of audibly protesting its emptiness.

As they dug in, Warren looked up at Sukja. "Next bad dream, I won't pretend to be asleep. I'll catch him when he's most susceptible – sleepy, emotionally open from the dream, and in bed," he announced, taking a mouthful of food.

Sukja scanned the face that was filled with sly determination. "Remind me to watch myself around you when emotionally vulnerable," he joked with a smirk. "Our Emperor doesn't stand a chance."

### --- ###

Little over a week after leaving Sarrys Station, Warren and Ztar were relaxing in their sitting area late one evening, sipping Dison and reading quietly. Earlier, Warren had been irritated at Ztar but held his tongue – mostly. The man had presumed to order dinner for the two of them yet again without consulting Warren. It was getting old and Ztar seemed to ignore or conveniently forget Warren's repeated request not to do that. It felt demeaning in a small way. Perhaps a discussion with Chef Delme might lead to a way around the irritating behavior.

He'd hoped after their dramatic escape from Ymoz, Ztar would see him in a different light and the control issues would ease. Instead, Ztar seemed unaffected by Warren's obvious ability to kick ass. In fact, Ymoz and the Etagllot may have made it worse. Now Ztar had a whole new reason to be overly protective. Would that translate to an even stronger need to control? Time would tell. Meanwhile, Warren would choose his battles and dinner choices wasn't one of them that evening. Instead, Warren decided to broach the subject he'd told Xavier he would.

"I have a question." The Emperor looked up from his PI. "It's about Earth after the transition. I know the plan is to keep Earth in the Empire, but is that carved in stone?"

Archangel had Ztar's complete attention with that question. "Why do you ask?" He immediately suspected Xavier's involvement. In the brief, decidedly tense conversation Ztar had had with the influential human regarding Earth's status post-transition, Xavier suggested relinquishing the Earth System. Ztar was not convinced that was wise.

"It'd really not be that much different than the no-contact status currently planned. Why not go the last step and relinquish Earth completely?"

Ztar set his PI aside and look into the human's face. He'd given it much thought after Xavier initially made the suggestion that had bordered on a formal request and he'd become even more convinced of the sensibility of what he offered Earth. First and foremost, it would set a dangerous precedent that taken to the extreme could unraveled the Empire. That aside, Ztar saw very few if any persuasive arguments that Xavier's request would benefit Earth.

"Archangel, the galaxy is a dangerous place. Earth's Shi'ar allies and so-called protectors I deem as questionable. Did they come to Earth's aid militarily when I claimed the system? No. Instead they were party to turning you over to me and were quite happy to do so as a quick and painless resolution to a problem far from their home. If that's a sign of faltering commitment, and I saw in their minds that it perhaps is, where does that leave Earth? Without a strong protector, as I see it. The Commonwealth is a potential ally, but would you trust them? I don't and neither should Earth."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Your homeworld is important to me because you're important to me. I won't abandon it and leave Earth unprotected. While Earth sits within my Empire it benefits from our strength not only as a deterrent, but if needed in actuality. Meanwhile, Earth operates completely autonomously as it always has, but without the uncertainty of its safety. I vow to you, Archangel, should anyone threaten Earth, I will protect it as if it were my own homeworld."

Warren considered Ztar's words. It all sounded reassuring. What did Charles see as the downside? What was Warren missing? Or was it Charles' dislike and mistrust of the Turzents that was blinding him to the benefits of the proposed relationship?

"Couldn't we count on you as allies without being within the Empire?"

Ztar nodded, he'd thought of that angle, too. "Yes, but after my passing I cannot guarantee my successor will be as motivated as I am to come to your aid. Much like the Shi'ar Empress Lilandra feels she can't guarantee her government will remain your ally after her time. By being part of the Empire, Earth's protection is your entitlement and not so vulnerable to political whims."

Warren nodded. That would make sense. "In your discussions with Professor Xavier, you told him these things?"

"Yes, but I fear I have caused myself to be so despised by him and your Earth leaders that they wish only to be as far removed from my Empire as possible and are not considering its benefits."

"They have a right to be suspicious," Warren pointed out.

"That was true in the past. I'm no longer the person I was and my Empire is no longer the conquest-driven military machine it was. You know that, but I understand those on Earth do not. I need to prove myself to them and dispel their fears."

Warren nodded. "Tall order, Ztar."

"I've already one major success to my credit," he replied, smiling at his companion.

Warren smirked knowing exactly to what Ztar was referring. "I'm just one person who is with you every day. You have your work cut out for you is all I can say. But I'll help as much as I can with Professor Xavier. If we can convince him, then the other world leaders may be more inclined to give you a chance."

An idea came to Ztar. Quickly, he weighed the pro and cons. "Perhaps is there a way for your Professor to know my sincerity. I could let him probe me."

Warren was very much surprised. "You'd allow him to do that?"

"I would, if it helps quell his fears. He can then share what he learns with the other Earth representatives."

"And you trust him knowing he considers you an enemy?"

"I trust Xavier is honorable because you trust him. Otherwise, I would not consider this for a moment."

Warren contemplated. It would certainly provide Xavier every opportunity to discover Ztar's true intentions. The mere offer would speak volumes toward building trust. It could work.

"Would you like me to extend the offer to Xavier?"

"Yes. We need to resolve this issue soon as Earth's transition fast approaches. I prefer to have everything settled before that time."

Warren smiled as warm feelings filled him and he made a special effort to project them to the empath. "Thank you, Ztar. They may not know it yet, but Earth has a worthy friend in you."

Ztar welcomed with a joyful heart the sensations filling the empathic link. It served to drive home how changed their relationship was. In Archangel's heart, Ztar had gone from loathed to almost loved – a true miracle in Ztar's eyes. He would do much to protect and nurture that change of heart, even if it meant submitting to what was sure to be a deep and uncomfortable probe by the powerful human telepath to prove himself.

"Thank you for your trust. It means more to me than you know," Ztar relayed.

Warren knew each show of caring and faith indeed meant much to the Turzent. As did what he was about to do next. He would reward Ztar for his offer in a way the Turzent would love most. Warren rose, took the two strides to Ztar's chair, grabbed a large hand and pulled it in the direction of the bed. "It's getting late. Let's go to bed," he suggested and watched as the heat instantly ignited in the Turzent.

With those four simple words, Ztar's passion flared. He watched Archangel's eyes dilate with the thought of the pleasures to come. Ztar stood and pulled his lover close. "I am so thankful you're in my life, my beloved. I love you."

The sensations emanating off Ztar were intoxicating. "I lo-" it almost slipped out. "…like when you tell me that," he covered quickly. 'I love you, too' would have been too easy to say, but it wasn't true. Not in the way Ztar wanted it to be. 'Keep telling yourself that, Worthington.'

After a sensual kiss, Warren allowed himself to be pulled to the bed, their loungewear quickly deposited on the floor and to Warren's mild surprise, Ztar settled next to him, not astride as was typical. Face to face they lay, Ztar running his fingers through Warren's hair, down his cheek, and across his lips.

"Do you have any concept of how beautiful you are? You are perfection of form and spirit."

Warren felt the blush rise. "You're embarrassing me."

"Why? Why would being told you're beautiful embarrass you?"

Warren shrugged. "It just does. But thanks."

"You don't believe you're beautiful do you?" Ztar pressed.

Warren grew mildly uncomfortable with the conversation. "I'm no more so than billions upon billions of other people. You're biased," he pointed out with a small laugh.

"No, my Archangel. This is not about being more or less beautiful than others. It's about you thinking you are not. It pains me that you feel less than what you are."

That struck a nerve and Warren wanted the conversation to end. "Make love to me before I withdraw my offer," he said trying to put a twinkle in his eyes.

"You're attempting to change the subject."

"Yep. We've more exciting things to do than discuss my self-perceptions." Warren rose up on one elbow and leaned down to take Ztar's mouth into his to shut the man up. It worked as Ztar encircled Warren with his strong arms and the kiss became urgent.

Ztar pulled Archangel atop him as he continued to explore his lover's mouth and lips. He savored the sweet, fiery taste of the Dison Archangel had consumed. 'Sweet fire' that's what Archangel was in bed, Ztar thought. The human was an intoxicating blend of sweet submission and the tantalizing potential of fiery domination. Suddenly Ztar's memory flashed back to the savage mating he and Archangel had during his molt when the feral side of the human took control. That was all fire and raw, animal sex. Ztar wondered if that would happen again with the next molt. Something to anticipate.

For right now, he focused on the man above him who had positioned himself astride Ztar's thighs with wings spread like a pure white canopy over them. The sight took his breath away as it always did. The brilliant white of the wings, the rich gold of the hair, and the crystalline-blue eyes. The purity of the colors captivated him and he gazed with wonder upon Archangel.

"Too beautiful to be real!" he whispered aloud without realizing until he heard his own voice.

Warren brought his mouth down again on Ztar's to halt any more words. He shivered as Ztar's hands slid up his side, across the back to where feather met flesh and to those particular spots at the base of the wings that could send Warren over the edge. He moaned in pleasure and his wings spread even wider as Ztar massaged those spots sending waves of erotic heat rolling from wing base to tip and then up and down his body to end directly in his loins. "Oh god!" escaped his lips when Ztar hit the right spots again with just the right touch.

Passion was building within Ztar and he welcomed it with open arms. He massaged and stroked and caressed his partner, stoking the fire. Archangel returned the favor, brushing his lips across Ztar's and kissing down his neck and chest, nipping and nibbling along the way.

Ztar moved to trade positions with Archangel, but Archangel refused. "I want to be on top," the human said in a lusty, breathy voice. This was something new. Archangel was rarely on top for long, but Ztar acquiesced, intrigued as to where things may go.

Warren clamped down again for a searing kiss, holding the man's face on either side. Deep, probing, passionately he explored the Turzent's warm mouth. Pulling away, he moved to the ear, then the neck, across the shoulder to give the Emperor a quick bite.

Sexual fever ratcheted up at a rapid pace as the two explored and tantalized each other. The world folded in to become just them, and need overtook Warren. He wanted the Turzent with a desperation that he rarely felt. As Ztar caressed and fondled him, Warren returned the favor with abandon. With the Emperor beneath him, Warren did what he never believed he would do – he made love in a dominant position. It was a first. Ztar was always on top for penetration. But now as Warren lowered himself on the Turzent, he was in control – he determined the speed and intensity of their joining. He teased, starting and stopping and driving Ztar nearly mad in the process. The Emperor moaned and gripped Warren's arms so fiercely it would have been extremely painful if not for the offsetting sexual delights crashing through his body.

His Archangel was fulfilling a fantasy he wasn't sure would ever be realized. Ztar chose not to think, but allowed himself to become fully immersed in the sight, sensations, and simple joy of sex with the man he loved. With white feather canopy undulating with the human's movements, encasing them protectively, the experience consumed Ztar. He moaned and held on tight as Archangel worked his magic.

Archangel rode him until Ztar was at the brink of climax, then released the mysterious energy, bathing them in its rapturous waves. He thought he may not survive the intensity of the bliss. When he managed to open his eyes for a brief moment, he thought he saw Archangel softly glow as if lit from within. A single flash of recollection flickered in his mind – he'd seen that before, but Ztar's mind refused to think beyond that as his body went into ecstasy overload. "My gods!" he cried out as he came into his beloved.

At the feel of Ztar's climax within him, Warren own body responded in kind as it often did, as if their bodies were one – something he'd never experienced with another lover. The combination of the energy, Ztar's climax, and his own crescendo was explosive and the sensations devoured him. He was only the ecstasy.

After the dual climaxes ebbed, he laid forward, panting and depleted, wanting only to drift into contented sleep. With his head nestled under the Emperor's chin and wings draped across the bed, they rested silently while the remnant waves of pleasure faded from their bodies. Ztar brought his arms up and around Warren's back for a gentle embrace. "Thank you," the Turzent whispered with an appreciative kiss to the top of his head. Slowly, softly Ztar stroked one wing. The expenditure of energy left Warren drained as it always did and he quickly nodded off to the deeply soothing feel of the Ztar's gentle caresses down the feathers.

### --- ###

Xavier was flabbergasted. "He _agreed_ to this?!"

"It was his idea," Warren clarified. "He wants you and the others to know he is sincere in his desire to ensure Earth's safety while allowing full autonomy. He means what he says, Charles. This is your chance to find out for yourself."

Charles was suspicious. It could be a trap or perhaps Ztar believed he could hide things from his probe. If that was the case, the Turzent was in for a surprise. It also grated Charles that Warren kept defending the man who had been so brutal and had stolen Warren like a piece of property, actually legally declared him as such, and stripped him of all sentient rights. In fact, as the Accord remained legally in effect, Warren still had no rights under Turzent law.

"Is he coming here?"

Warren knew that would be a sticky detail. "Ztar would like to meet you at a mid-way point. He'll gladly supply a ship or if you'd rather, you could request a Shi'ar ship, complete with military escorts if you feel the need. The Emperor wants to stay closer to his seat of power. So much is happening now at an accelerated pace with the transition that a 10-day round trip to Earth just isn't prudent at the moment."

Xavier leaned back. Of course it wasn't prudent. "Perhaps your emperor really prefers not to meet at all." Charles couldn't help the sarcasm.

The "your emperor" emphasis did not go unnoticed. Warren studied the face of his old friend on the viewscreen. Why was it Charles held onto his animosity toward Ztar when Warren had let his go? He reminded himself that Charles didn't know Ztar nor had he witnessed the incredible transformation in the man.

"That's not it at all. Please, Charles, agree to this. Then you will know firsthand that Ztar is sincere."

"If he were anyone else, Warren, you'd say it was a trap."

"But it is not. I know Ztar and his intentions are honorable."

Charles almost laughed aloud at the irony. Honorable intentions was the last thing Ztar had even little more than a year ago when he ripped Warren away a second time. For Warren to suggest… Charles caught himself. He was letting the anger that had fermented for five-plus years take over. Stepping back and separating himself from his emotions, he could see what Ztar offered Earth would be viewed by some as a good deal. The question was whether or not it was genuine. Charles was being given the opportunity to determine just that. He could not throw it away because of his hatred of the Turzent.

Equally enticing was opportunity to look into the mind of Warren's subjugator, learn how Warren was being controlled, and acquire other useful information. No, this opportunity must not be tossed away.

Warren watched the Professor's face as he contemplated. It went from doubt to anger to calm. What had gone through his old friend's mind? Then Xavier leaned toward the viewscreen.

"Very well. I accept Ztar's offer."

Warren smiled in relief. "Thank you, Charles! You will not regret your decision. Now we just need to work out the details. Do you want an Imperial ship or ask the Shi'ar for transport?"

Xavier contemplated for a only moment. "If Ztar is as honorable as you profess, then I have no reason to refuse his offer of a ship."

Warren nodded. It was obvious his friend would test Ztar to the limits. "I'll comm when we have made the arrangements."

After they ended the comlink, Warren sat back. A slight mental tremor ran through him. What would Charles find in his deep scan of Ztar? Warren had faith that Ztar had truly changed, but this would prove without doubt whether or not his faith was justified. 'Ztar, I hope you know what you've let yourself in for.'

### --- ###

As the comlink screen went blank, Charles' decision was made. The situation had gone on long enough. His friend, his almost son, was in need of an intervention – X-man style. And the Shi'ar would help whether they liked it or not.

It was becoming more apparent with each conversation that Warren was falling further and further under the Turzent's insidious control. He likely would never leave the Emperor of his own volition. Ztar had brainwashed Warren into believing he cared for the rapist tyrant and somehow needed to help the man heal. _Heal?!_ It was a ludicrous idea. The man was a psychopath and always would be. It was not something Warren could cure. It was conceivable the Emperor had transitioned temporarily to a more benign mental state, but that was as far as he would go. If Warren couldn't see that for himself, Charles needed to step in.

All he'd ask for would be two ships with Shi'ar soldiers for the trip to Sat'rey. Lilandra owed him that much, by God. Charles would contact the Empress that very day to begin laying plans. Waiting would be difficult, but Xavier would take no action while Earth was bound by the Accord. He would not give the Turzents any reason to declare his actions a violation of the document and hold that against Earth.

In several weeks, the Accord would be nullified. At least that is what the Empire promised. Then they would go to the Emperor's throneworld and retrieve his X-man – forcibly if need be. And should the Turzent promise of freedom for Earth turn out to be a lie, Charles was forming backup plans. The Emperor would pay dearly for the deception or any attempt to hold onto his X-man or Earth. Very dearly indeed!

### --- ###

Second Major Raminjen hurried through the corridor of Gzenra Station. He was late returning to the ship. Gtar-Cro's command cruiser was departing the station in another hour and he should have been back on board already. His errands took too long, but he wanted to make sure everything was in order.

Raminjen scanned his surroundings as he moved through the station. He knew they were watching him. Even without that prickly feeling one gets when you're in someone's sights, it would be a logical assumption. He was a suspect. If Raminjen were Gtar-Cro, he'd already be in the brig and under intense interrogation. Why that wasn't the case was also logical. They wanted more than just Raminjen – Gtar-Cro wanted his co-conspirators.

Problem was, there weren't any. Raminjen had nothing to do with the Gamas II kidnapping, at least not intentionally. Sure, he screwed up not ordering an escort shuttle, but that was the extent of his contribution. That was a significant oversight and completely out of character. Why he hadn't, he couldn't explain. No excuse. Actually, somewhere in his mind he thought he had made those arrangements, yet all the evidence proved he had not. As soon as he discovered the omission, he began his preparations. Even when cleared of any deliberate wrongdoing, he was negligent in his duty, something General Gtar-Cro and the Emperor would not tolerate, nor should they. If an escort shuttle had visual contact with the Emperor's craft, they would have spotted the enemy shuttle.

His finances were in order, discreet inquiries about other employment opportunities made, and legal counsel alerted. The resignation letter was prepared and waiting. Obviously, he was no longer at his peak. Sloppy security work at his level was simply unacceptable. The expected investigation that logic told him had already begun would likely include telepathic interrogations, perhaps even by the Emperor himself. Best case, he may still be able to pull a nice retirement deal and find a civilian security position. His credentials carried a lot of weight. And since the kidnapping was not public knowledge, no black mark marred his record outside of MI. Worse case…well, he chose not to dwell on that too much.

The situation weighed heavily as he traversed the short cut he'd learned a couple years back from a Gzenra station rat called Mers. Down the service corridor to cargo storage, cut through the loading bay, take the second door on the left through the dock offices, down another corridor, and the third entrance on the right took you directly to the private berthing bay Gtar-Cro's ship always used.

It was well into Gzenra's nighttime cycle when he entered the cargo bay. The docks were eerie at night. Devoid of people and only partially illuminated. Long shafts of light and shadow added to the creepy atmosphere. Usually the scene of hurried activity, it became a silent vastness for a few short hours each artificial night. His footfalls echoing, Raminjen strode hastily through the vast chamber. Half way across, he caught a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye in a darken area where stacks of crated goods rose high. He stopped, a shiver running down the length of his spine.

"Who's there?" he demanded, his voice reverberating off the synth-metal walls.

A figure emerged slowly, then stopped, remaining mostly in shadow. Raminjen squinted, trying to make out the face, but the figure wore a hooded cloak. A peek of nose and chin were the most he could see.

"Remember me, Raminjen?" a deep, smooth voice inquired.

Raminjen watched the figure warily, regretting he'd left his phase gun on the ship to honor station regulations, which in his position he needn't do. "Who are you? How do you know me?"

"Alas, I'm used to people forgetting me. My name is unimportant, but we have met."

Raminjen thought he could make out a smile on the shadowed face. "Step into the light and show me your face. Perhaps then I'll remember." He tuned his senses to everything he could see and hear. Were there others or was this man alone?

"My regrets, but seeing my face will not improve your memory. I've come to express my gratitude for a job well done."

Raminjen's curiosity rose along with his sense of dread. "Explain yourself," he commanded in his best authoritative tone.

"Withholding the escort shuttle. That was key to the success of the operation."

Raminjen's chest tightened. Was Gtar-Cro becoming impatient and sent this person sent to frighten him into confessing to something he hadn't intentionally done?

"I don't know what you're talking about." Raminjen glanced toward the exit. If he had to, he could bolt for the door.

"Don't play naïve. We both know that you did not assign an escort for the Emperor's shuttle. So unlike the meticulous Second Major Raminjen. How _did_ you explain that lapse to Gtar-Cro?"

This was becoming increasingly uncomfortable on many levels. "I don't know what game you're playing, but either make your intentions known or I leave."

The figure, which Raminjen assumed was male from the voice, chuckled. "I have already explained – I've come to express my appreciation."

"Then you are connected with the kidnapping. Perhaps I should summon security," he threatened.

"And if I am, by the time you pull out your PI to call, I'd be upon you. Not good strategy, Raminjen."

Raminjen swallowed. "You assume you could take me. No, I think I'm done with this game," he said and shifted to move toward the exit.

"Such impatience. And I believed you would wish to hear the rest of the story. You disappoint me."

Raminjen stopped in mid-motion. "Are you offering information about the kidnapping?" That got his attention.

"Indeed. If you're willing to listen."

The man took a half step toward Raminjen, and he instinctively backed away an equal step. Some of the facial details became more visible, but just. He appeared to be Themran. An instant chill ran through him as he caught glimpse of an infamous jaw marking. A Jezsian tracker! If one of them was on his trail, he was in dire trouble. His heart rate quickened.

"I'm listening."

Another smile crossed the dark face. "Actually, we met twice before the incident."

"If I'd met you, I'd remember," Raminjen said firmly.

The cloaked figure shook his head. "No, Raminjen, you would not. You see, I'm a telepath. Quite skilled really. You recall nothing because I erased those memories."

Raminjen's fear ratcheted up several notches. The idea of a telepathic Jezsian bounty hunter was terrifying. If the man was as he claimed, Raminjen didn't stand a chance. "What happened during these alleged meetings?"

"We got to know each other quite well." The man paused and moved his hands in an apologetic gesture. "Actually, I got to know you. A one-sided relationship. Again, my regrets, but a necessity under the circumstances."

"You apologize a lot," Raminjen pointed out, hoping to maintain some air of confidence.

"A hazard of the work."

"I presume you probed me."

"Yes. I was impressed – you're intelligent and detailed with an edge of ruthlessness that has been reined in and directed in so-called appropriate directions." The man smiled again, quite unsettlingly so.

"Get to the point."

"Our first encounter was a simple siphoning. The second, though – much more important to the operation. You may not remember our meetings, but you did remember your instructions. Flawlessly executed. No one caught on that the escort shuttle hadn't been scheduled."

Everything fell suddenly into place. How the Etagllot knew of Ztar's schedule and the details of that day. The uncharacteristic oversight and his belief at the time he had scheduled a shuttle. The mental oddness he'd felt while the incident was unfolding. His anger flared, dispelling his apprehension.

"You _programmed_ me?!"

"Some of my best work, if I must say."

An Etagllot who was also a telepathic Jezsian. The Second Major couldn't come up with a more frightening combination. Raminjen's thoughts raced to Gtar-Cro. He prayed they were indeed following him and this whole scene was being monitored.

"No one is watching, Raminjen. Gtar-Cro's rueger-derr took an unscheduled detour. Very odd how his tracker got on the wrong scent." An ominous chuckle followed that.

"You're reading me."

"Of course. I'm very good at my job. As such, I put the chances of Ztar personally probing you as quite high. While I am exceptionally talented, he is…remarkable. As such, I'm forced into extreme measures."

Anger quickly evaporated and cold fear ran through Raminjen – his future was vanishing before his eyes.

"You are going to kill me," he said flatly.

"Not quite yet. Do you wish to hear more?" the man taunted.

At that juncture, Raminjen couldn't care less about hearing any more, but it may buy him time for someone to figure out they'd lost his trail and to come looking. He gave one nod.

"Hope despite hopelessness, always so heartwarming. But back to our story. Once I eliminated the escort shuttle, the kidnapping became much easier. With the Emperor and the human in Etagllot hands, everything proceeded according to plan. Much was learned about the human – an intriguing being. He appears human, yet…" the man's shoulders shrugged. "Of course, the full data review needs to be completed before any firm conclusions are reached about his true nature."

Raminjen was slightly puzzled. "I thought the Etagllot wanted the nannites?"

"Oh, indeed they do."

'They?' Raminjen caught. This man was not Etagllot. A hired gun?

"Quite impressive technology he hosts," the man continued. "A pity more wasn't learned before their escape. Yet the chance to see Archangel in action was worth the temporary loss. Quite fortuitous." The grin that crossed the still shadowy face spoke volumes.

"Someone wanted them to escape," Raminjen took a leap of logic.

"The human is of interest for more than one reason."

The redirect was obvious. "What other reason?"

The man took a small step closer to Raminjen. "I think that is enough storytelling for today. You and I have other business to conclude."

Raminjen knew what that business was. Panic escalated. He wasn't ready to die. Flashes of his family and friends, unfinished bits of his life, the aftermath of his death, the pain his loved ones would endure. He was desperate for time – just a few more precious moments of time!

"If I'm going to die anyway, why not share the rest?"

"Deep regrets, Second Major." A shake of the head confirmed the conversation was over. "Such a pity about that undiagnosed aneurism. Your physician should have been more thorough during your last examination."

Raminjen was confused. "What are you talking about?"

"To be fair, it really wasn't there during your last checkup. And now the stress of the kidnapping and your feelings of guilt coupled with Gtar-Cro's suspicions…it was all too much."

Raminjen backed up as the man took another casual step forward. "What aneurism? What are you saying?"

"The one that is forming at this very moment. It's location in the main artery to your brain is unfortunate – when it bursts, you'll be dead in seconds."

"Dying from an imaginary aneurism won't hold up in the autopsy," he pointed out, assuming he was going to be murdered through telepathically induced death.

"Not an imaginary aneurism, Raminjen. You see, I'm also a telekinetic. I've studied the anatomy of your species quite closely in preparation for this moment. The aneurism is quite real, just not natural."

This man was able to create an aneurism telekinetically?! "No telekinetic has that level of ability. You can't manipulate at a microscopic level what you cannot see!"

The subtle laugh was chilling. "I'm unique, Raminjen. Just a few more layers of cells to peel away and the vessel bursts. Gtar-Cro will be suspicious, they'll examine you closely, but in the end, the findings will be inconclusive." The man paused to give Raminjen a satisfied grin. "This is going quite well."

Raminjen reached into his pocket for his PI, but his hand froze.

"I can't allow that."

"Don't do this! Erase whatever you're afraid Ztar find! Why resort to murder?" he was beginning to beg, and even in his panic, it disgusted him.

"I leave few things to chance, and where Ztar is concerned, I take zero chances. Just another moment and it will be over."

"Please! My family…" Then a sharp pain stabbed him in the base of his skull, followed by a blinding headache. "_Please_!" he cried, holding his head in his hands. Blackness swept in and he felt himself dropping.

The cloaked figure walked over to the man lying on the floor, eyes staring at the bay ceiling as life fled.

"A pity really. You were the perfect blind operative. If Ztar was a little less skilled…"

The cloaked man proceeded casually out of the dock, dropping the projected image he'd used for effect on Raminjen. Most people reacted to the Jezsian hunter guise exactly how he desired, flooding their system with all the expected stress hormones. A little added insurance for the autopsy results.

### --- ###

They had just had incredible sex once again and he breathed in the deliciously lusty smell of the human curled around him.

"I love you, Ztar. I want to stay with you," Archangel whispered against his ear. Ztar's soul sang its joy. At long last, his companion said the words he'd longed to hear for five years.

"Forever?" he asked just to be certain.

"For always," Archangel promised.

This was truly a gift directly from the hands of the gods. Life could not be more perfect. But then, as daydreams do, it evaporated suddenly as real life intruded. His PI committed the crime, chiming that he had an incoming comm from Gtar-Cro.

Ztar wasn't given to daydreaming. He preferred reality, but the time of Earth's transition was edging ever closer. And Ztar was growing stronger – he could feel it and likely Archangel could sense it. Those two facts foretold but one event. 'By the gods, I don't want to lose him!'

Then he answered the call and learned the General's news.

### --- ###

He wasn't paying attention; instead in a rush to get his errands done. Sometimes having large wings was a real pain in the ass. Entering their chambers with an armload of foodstuffs, he back-elbowed the door control when a box of sweet wafers decided to jump out of his grasp. Juggling his load, he bent over to snatch the wayward carton. In that moment of distraction, the door caught several flight feathers in its closing grip. As he took a hurried step toward the kitchen, the yank on the feathers was sharp and startling and he instinctively jerked the wing. "Damn it!" he cursed the offending door. Reopening the entrance, he could see the kinks in the shafts.

He'd been so good about the care and maintenance of his feathered appendages in spite of everything that had happened since arriving on Sat'rey. Setting the parcels down in the kitchen, he brought the wing forward to examine the damage. Three flight feathers were involved – two could be smoothed and likely would be fine. The third, however, had a broken shaft. "Shit."

Warren had two choices – cut the damaged feather back to the break or remove it. He never liked the cutting back option as it left a sharp quill edge that always seemed to snag on everything. But he hated pulling feathers with a passion. Just the thought of the painful sensation sent a shiver through him. 'Don't be such a baby,' he chided himself. 'At least it's not a blood feather. Best to do this quick and not think too much.'

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he extended the wing so the top of the flight feather and the membrane where it attached were within reach. Grasping the mortally wounded feather with one hand and squeezing down at the top end of the shaft, he took a deep breath and… hesitated. "Damn, it all anyway! God, I hate this." He took another breath. 'You've faced how many evil mutants and super villains without thinking twice and plucking a feather has you sweating? Jesus, you're a wus.' He yanked hard.

Torn nerve endings sent sharp, stabbing pains through the entire wing directly to where wing met back. "Fuck!" he said, leaning over at the worst sensation. Soon there was only throbbing and then that too passed and he sat upright again and looked at the feather. "So much for you!" he told it and got up to stuff the large feather in the garbage.

There'd be a gap in the otherwise perfect wing outline, but that would fill in at his next molt which was due in the not too distant future. Yet as messed up as his body was with the move from Earth to Sat'rey, there was really no telling when his system would think it was time for his annual shedding. The last molt started about 30 days after he left Earth where it had been fall in New England, but summer in the Imperial Valley. That had been a hard molt, hitting him with an intensity he hadn't experienced as an adult. His feral side had reared its animal head a couple of times, much to his chagrin. And that incident with Ztar in bed… He shook his head. 'Don't go there,' he told himself firmly. Hopefully, the next molt would be more typical. With a sigh, he began putting away the food.

### --- ###

Gtar-Cro sat across from the Emperor looking not at all happy. Ztar's empathic senses confirmed the general's facial cues. The General had traveled to Sat'rey to report to his Emperor just 18 standard days after the escape from the Etagllot. The Etagllot investigation was in full gear, and much had been learned.

"It's not encouraging news, my Emperor. The problem appears to be as significant as we feared," Gtar-Cro sighed. "And a more detailed autopsy on Raminjen throws some doubt on the original conclusion of natural causes. If the report is to be believed, we may be up against a formidable killer."

"Tell me everything you've uncovered, General," Ztar said crossing his arms. He was prepared to be unhappy along with his General.

"First the Etagllot highlights. They have re-emerged perhaps as strong as ever. Evidence suggests both the Commonwealth and the Par-Sen System provided sanctuary to fleeing Etagllot during our campaign against them 15 years ago. The organization has established themselves inside both governments, though in differing degrees. We've receive a great deal of information from our contacts within Par-Sen intelligence. That system currently appears to be the Etagllot's primary base of operations. Commonwealth intel is proving more elusive, but it appears Etagllot influence in that regime was at its peak about four years ago. Does that timing seem as coincidental to you as it does to me?"

Ztar nodded. He had suspected as much. "Perhaps we finally know who was truly behind the war with the Commonwealth," he ventured.

"A distinct possibility, but one not yet confirmed. If they had infiltrated into the highest ranks of Commonwealth government, we could speculate they used that regime as a tool for their purposes, perhaps even to exact revenge on you."

"Revenge is always a powerful motivator. It would not surprise me," he noted letting all his disdain come through in his voice. "And we already knew our early suspicions about the Par-Sen were valid."

"Yes. Many in their government have recognized the threat and are open to our assistance in ridding their system of Etagllot influence. Our Par-Sen counterintelligence sources have outlined where they have evidence the Etagllot has infiltrated their government; some are quite powerful posts. Etagllot operatives and their supporters are using those positions to funnel money and resources into their research and development programs."

"Any signs Etagllot agents know Par-Sen intelligence assisted in the kidnapping investigation?"

"We must assume those activities revealed our cooperative efforts. Our contacts are on high alert for retaliation."

Ztar nodded. "Do you believe the Etagllot are still manipulating Commonwealth agenda?" Ztar wanted to know how much of a multi-front war he may be facing.

"To a lesser extent than four years ago. Evidence suggests that some in the Commonwealth military and intelligence arms were not pleased with the reason or outcome of the war and exacted their own revenge on those they thought responsible. We believe their influence is greatly diminished."

Ztar sighed in cautious relief. Could they be so lucky as to the Commonwealth cleaning up their own mess? "That is some good news at least. I am concerned, though, that we have a potent enemy on two fronts, and possibly the homefront, as well."

Gtar-Cro leaned back. "Speaking of homefront, we haven't yet uncovered any infiltration of significance. The Etagllot base on Ymoz seems to be an anomaly. Par-Sen agents shared a report on the Ymoz head researcher. Hercjell al'Verta went underground several years ago and has since been suspect in other Etagllot bio-technical research in that system."

"How did they find out about Archangel and the nannites?"

Gtar-Cro hesitated before plunging into that discussion. "Before we leave generalities, my Emperor, I wish you to consider a hypothesis when reading the detailed reports. Consider the idea of a larger, singular goal driving Etagllot agenda."

Ztar leaned in toward Gtar-Cro. "Care to elaborate?"

Gtar-Cro gestured to indicate the negative. "No, my Emperor. I want the brilliant strategist to go into those reports with no preconceptions."

"Very well. Back to my question about Archangel."

"First a step back if you'll indulge me." The Emperor nodded and Gtar-Cro continued. "Obviously, the Etagllot have known about Earth and its mutant population for some time. We believe the initial data mining operations performed on Earth's knowledge base may have in part or wholly fallen into Etagllot hands. We are still investigating that issue. However, that data was at a higher level than information on individual humans. True, some references were made here and there concerning Archangel since he was a very public figure on Earth, but in our review of that mined data, there was no mention of the bio-technology he hosts. There is also no evidence to suggest what Major Jui of Military Development knew of Archangel went any further than his office, even after his retirement. From what we've learned, it appears he shared that knowledge with no one beyond the Mi-Lartui tech who provided it. In fact, we do not believe the Etagllot learned of the nannites until a few months ago. The mere fact of that five years have passed also lends credence to the supposition. Had they known earlier, they likely would have attempted to take him long ago."

"Then how…?"

"That," Gtar-Cro straightened in his chair, "was a question that perplexed me a great deal. Physician Vozeipar'de is in the clear and so is the Fjai staff and the facility itself. Our telepaths found no betrayals. That left few options as to how the information was obtained by the Etagllot. Since the only communication about Archangel and the bio-technology he hosts was between your physician and Fjai, we investigated those communication lines."

The conclusion was obvious. "The comlink system."

"Correct. It took awhile, but we discovered an incredibly sophisticated micro-routine imbedded in the comlink network software architecture. Simply put, the routine cloned messages containing certain subjects or to specified recipients and forwarded those clones through a circuitous route to a receiver. The original messages continued on their way as if nothing had occurred."

"And this micro-routine eluded all of our security measures?!" Ztar was quickly alarmed at the ramifications.

"It was a masterful piece of subterfuge programming disguised as a maintenance routine. We have determined that none of our current personnel was involved. Technicians are investigating how it was embedded and for how long. MI continues to investigate the who."

Then Ztar had a very worrisome thought. "Our military comm and the ghost network – were those compromised?" He instantly picked up on a feeling of relief from the General.

"There are no signs of infiltration into those systems, thank the gods. In fact, we cannot not find evidence that the Etagllot know of the existence of the ghost network. Our most important secrets we believe are uncompromised."

Ztar sighed audibly. "As you said, thank the gods for that. We must ensure that remains the case."

"Already done. Heightened security measures are in place and all personnel with knowledge of the ghost network have been secured. Those that must retain knowledge are under increased monitoring."

Ztar nodded. "Secured" in this case meant their minds had been wiped clean of that information by MI's staff telepaths and "monitoring" meant random mind scans.

"The destination of the cloned messages has disappeared. We found nothing at the end of the transmission trail, which turned out to be a point in space. Likely, a small receiver satellite had been positioned there, but since retrieved."

"That could indicate someone knows we were on to them."

"A logical conclusion."

Gtar-Cro took a long draw from his water glass. Ztar took advantage of the break in the conversational flow to change the subject back to kidnapping. "Did you recover anything from Ymoz or found anyone connected with that operation?"

"No on both points. As you know, the old mining facility turned research lab was destroyed before we arrived, including all data. There simply was nothing to recover. Thus far, no leads on the whereabouts of Hercjell or any of the others you named."

"If Archangel and I stole their ship, how did they escape so quickly?"

"Specifics are unknown, but they obviously had another ship in the general vicinity."

"Or they had other outside help." Ztar's thoughts turned immediately to their interstellar neighbors.

"We've considered that. Nothing came up in our search of registered FTL flight plans, leaving us with unregistered departures and movements, which are nearly impossible to track. We continue to seek that answer, with Par-Sen assistance being near the top of list of suspects given the proximity of Ymoz to their territory."

"And MD? Anything to link them currently to the Etagllot?"

"Surprisingly, no, but we continue to interrogate their people."

"What about the memory banks on the Alpha Helix? What did you learn?"

"Not as much as one would have hoped. Her databanks contain a rather extensive medical and research reference library, but no specific information leading us to any Etagllot facilities or people. Our data miners are convinced that someone recently downloaded and then erased several library files, but no other signs of data input or output in the past month, aside from routine ship operational data. Even that data was edited, showing only routine logs from its time spent in orbit around Ymoz. The Etagllot don't let sensitive information sit around on ships as ships can be breached."

Ztar let out a heavy sigh. He'd been so hopeful they'd find something of value. "The erased files, you are unable to recover anything?"

"Nothing, but one possibility is it was Archangel's medical files that, once transmitted to the surface facility, were deleted from the ship's computer."

"And our two prisoners were of no help?"

"Very little. The ship's caretaker was privy to little and any memories of the ship's previous travels were wiped. The technician provided no leads – just a simple shuttle tech doing his job and trained to ask no questions. His memories have also been selectively sanitized of his whereabouts prior to Ymoz." Gtar-Cro shook his head in antipathy. "A hell of a way to live," Gtar-Cro added with almost sympathy for the low-ranking Etagllot personnel who suffered ongoing memory erasure at the hands of Etagllot telepaths.

"Willing recruits or abductees?" Ztar wanted to know.

"As far as our telepaths can determine, the shuttle tech was a willing enlistee. The woman on the ship, however, appears have been taken. We uncovered false memories that led her to believe she had signed on for the challenge and adventure. In actuality, she is a Par-Sen military engineering tech that disappeared about a year ago according to Par-Sen intelligence. She will be rehabilitated and returned to her family, though a large gap will remain in her memory."

Ztar shook his head. Not much had changed as far as the Etagllot's modus operandi. They had no qualms about stealing whatever resources needed to accomplish their end – whether inert or sentient.

"And Raminjen?"

"The initial autopsy concluded the cause of death to be a ruptured aneurism. But forensics specialist Ajdra'de's instincts told her something may not be quite right. Nowhere in Raminjen's medical files did it mention an aneurism or any predisposition or family history of aneurisms. She ordered a second autopsy and specifically requested more intense scanning of the rupture point. What they found was somewhat puzzling. It showed the rupture to be a fresh wound, so to speak. Vascular specialists stated it is possible for several layers of cells to give way under certain circumstances and leave behind exposed cells, much like a skin scrape. The weakened vascular wall can rupture, but that is exceedingly rare."

"So Raminjen died of a rare form of aneurism-"

Gtar-Cro risked interrupting the Emperor. "There are also unnatural causes for cells to peel away." He left it at that.

"Drugs? Bionites? A bio agent?"

Gtar-Cro shook his head.

Ztar was stumped – an unnatural cause but none of the above? Then a possibility dawned. "_Telekinesis_? But extremely few TKs can even begin to operate at the cellular level, let alone without direct visual contact with the area being manipulated."

Gtar-Cro leaned forward. "We know of possibly one."

Ztar was stunned. "Who?"

"No idea, but his or her work has been seen before. In fact, there is a trail of suspicious Par-Sen deaths where telekinesis is the only viable cause. Evidence suggests this person to be an extremely powerful telepath as well or working with someone who is. Perhaps," Gtar-Cro paused, "even rivaling you."

Ztar was dead still for many seconds, sifting through facts in his head. "Is this perhaps the enigmatic telepath Drex used on the shuttle tech?"

Gtar-Cro signaled tentative agreement. "That is a possibility."

"What else do you or the Par-Sen know of this individual?"

"Nothing concrete – just suppositions, faint trails, and circumstantial evidence."

Many very disturbing scenarios raced through Ztar's thoughts. "If you are right about the talents of this person or duo, it is a chilling situation. Keep me informed. Instinct tells me this is a glimpse of something much larger."

"As it does me."

Ztar leaned back in his chair. "Let me recap. We've no leads on Hercjell or any of the other Ymoz scientists. No leads on where their ship has been. No leads from the two prisoners. And now Raminjen has died under suspicious circumstances – any leads there gone forever. An empty bag, General." Despite knowing whom they were up against, Ztar was still incredulous at the lack of significant progress.

"A fair statement, but not surprising. Both you and I know, the Etagllot leave little to chance and even less of a trail."

"Which makes the fact that you found where Archangel and I were taken even more miraculous." Ztar sat back and contemplated; a frown on his face. 'Almost too much of a miracle,' Ztar thought but would not share with his General. "So we've nothing but dead ends. General, we need a major breakthrough. I want Hercjell and whoever ordered the kidnapping."

Gtar-Cro sighed in mutual frustration. "My Emperor, I know you are anxious to catch the people responsible and we are working as quickly as can be managed. Our best option is to work with our Par-Sen connections and explore similar relations with the Commonwealth. The Etagllot represent a threat to all three regimes."

Ztar leaned toward his general, arms on the table. "I well understand the challenges we face, but we failed once to eradicate the Etagllot, I will not fail again. We will protect the citizens of this Empire with our last breath. But there is also a much more personal side to my determination – Archangel. As long as the Etagllot exist, he is in peril. They will not stop pursuing him now that they know what he carries inside. They clearly want that technology at virtually any cost."

"Understood, my Emperor."

"And as a result of our work, I should find myself facing the scientist that dared touch Archangel, I will indulge my desire for revenge very leisurely regardless of what the new constitution says."

Ztar smiled wickedly enough to nearly send shivers through the hardened general. The mere thought of what Ztar was capable of made Gtar-Cro mentally shudder. He was very glad he was not Hercjell al'Verta.

"Emperor, speaking of your companion, we need to discuss the issue of Archangel's safety as you requested."

Ztar eased back and relaxed just a little. "Yes, it is time. He has recovered quite quickly from the experience. Then you will review with me all the other details of what you've learned in your investigations."

Ztar and Gtar-Cro spent the next hours reviewing the General's plan to protect the Emperor's companion and going through the stack of reports on the Etagllot investigations.

### --- ###

"Archangel, I want to talk to you about a few new security procedures."

Warren nodded from his perch on the balcony. He had figured something like this would be coming at some point. Actually, he was surprised it hadn't happened sooner. Ztar joined him at the table, setting down two glasses of their favorite. It was an especially nice late winter afternoon; warmer than usual for that time of year Moit'de had said. Hints of spring perhaps?

"Some of the new protocols apply specifically to you."

Warren waited, taking a sip of Dison. The heat of the fiery liqueur warmed him further. Ztar looked especially pleased with himself at the moment, he observed.

"The new protocols are to ensure your safety until the Etagllot problem can be eliminated."

"Does this mean no out-of-system travel?" Actually, Warren wouldn't object at all to that. Perhaps he could get wiggle out of the Ennovy-Eiram shindig that Ztar seemed determined to attend.

"Not necessarily. The new protocols are also in place for when we do travel – most of which will be transparent to us."

Warren sighed internally. 'Damn.'

"What I want to discuss right now are the protocols here on Sat'rey. First, though, I want to reassure you that the palace is safe. No one can get through our defenses. And Sat'rey is the most secure planet in the Empire, but we must not underestimate the Etagllot. Until they are no longer a threat, we've assigned four elite guard exclusively to you as added precaution. Guards are to accompany you whenever you leave the palace grounds. Then-"

"They've learn to fly?" Warren broke in dryly, his eyebrows raised.

"No, Archangel," Ztar said shaking his head at the humor. "I should have said anytime you leave the Imperial Valley. Speaking of flying, whenever you decide to go out, you must let palace security know so they can actively track you."

Humor quickly left him. Warren wasn't sure he liked that idea. Airtime was his sanctuary – no intrusions allowed, even via remote tracking. "I'm not sure I like the thought-"

"It's to ensure your safety," Ztar cut him off, somewhat dismissively in Warren's estimation. "And when you travel beyond the Valley, at least two of your private guards must be with you and it needs to be cleared with Lar in advance. However, until the Etagllot problem is contained, trips beyond the Valley may be limited. If Lar is uncomfortable with anything, he has been instructed to deny the request."

While an intrusion, Warren could live with the restrictions even though the tracking business irritated him. Could be worse. "Not too bad. That's it?"

"One more protocol that's especially important. You are to wear a transmitter at all times. It acts as a homing beacon."

Warren was immediately mystified. "If I get snatched, it's the first thing they'd take from me. That doesn't make sense."

"It is an imbedded device."

Warren did a mental jerk. "I'm to be _tagged_?" He set his drink down hard.

"It's the best method to ensure the device isn't easily separated from you. It's not detectable by most scanners – the latest MI technology. While detectable with advanced scanners, it would hopefully give us enough time to lead us to you or at least in the right direction until it's discovered and deactivated."

"Or cut out of me – that's not a comforting thought. What's the range of the device?" he asked, allowing irritation into his voice. This was more than a few enhanced security protocols.

"It transmits directly to the interstellar comlink system so you can be followed throughout the Empire as long as it is active."

Now Warren's ire was beginning to build. This was going too far. Increased security measures were to be expected – he, too, didn't want a repeat of the kidnapping. But this? This was a major evasion of privacy and one no one had bothered to ask his opinion about.

"Anything else?" Warren questioned crossing his arms over his chest. Wings spread unconsciously behind him as he frowned at the Emperor. His world was closing in. Don't fly without notifying security. People watching when he did. Can't go to Yaunra without permission. Can't go anywhere without permission. Wear the tracking gizmo so they could follow his every move. No thank you!

"That should take care of it. It is important that you follow the protocols, my Archangel. If the Etagllot took you again, I would never forgive myself."

Where was he when all this been decided, Warren wanted to know. Why hadn't he been in on the discussion? "You and Gtar-Cro planned all this? When?" he asked, looking Ztar in the eyes. This was a perfect example of Ztar's need to be the boss and control his life without any input from Warren.

"When we met yesterday. He determined these procedures are the best way to ensure your safety and to find you should the unthinkable happen. I agree." Ztar picked up on rising annoyance within the human and it surprised him. He thought Archangel would be pleased with his concern and efforts to protect him, especially after Archangel expressed his apprehension in that regard on Sarrys.

"Neither of you felt at _all_ compelled to bring me into that conversation? You didn't want my input?" Warren tried to keep the agitation from his voice, but only partially succeeded.

"Archangel, Gtar-Cro will not let the Etagllot get you again. You needn't worry."

Warren sighed in exasperation. "That's not the point. You and Gtar-Cro planned. You and he decided. I wasn't even asked to the table. It's me the Etagllot want slice and dice and I'm not even part of the conversation? What the fuck were you thinking?"

Ztar was taken aback at the harshness of Archangel's reaction. His intent was to keep his companion safe. Certainly, the human realized that. Perhaps he should have asked Archangel to participate in the discussion, but the meeting with Gtar-Cro had flowed seamlessly into reviewing what the General had already determined was the best course of action. The discussion just happened.

Archangel, though, was looking for an apology. If that's what it took, the Emperor would do so to smooth things over. He put on his most apologetic face. "My apologies. You're right, you should have been there. It's just that Gtar-Cro and I are accustomed to making those decisions. The safety of Imperial staff is his responsibility. It simply didn't occur to me to have you there."

"That's the problem – it didn't occur to you. By all those gods that you keep swearing to, what's the hell is the matter with you? How'd you like it if I went around making important decisions about your life without your input? Damn it, Ztar, get your head screwed on straight."

Warren rose sharply and started pacing back and forth on the balcony. It was the safest way to let out some of the negative energy. 'For the love of god, the man is so dense at times. Why can't he get it?'

The conversation was going from bad to worse. Why was Archangel so upset? "We want to keep you safe. Gtar-Cro is doing his job."

"I'm not some bimbo you need to protect and then pat on the head and tell not to worry – it's all taken care of," he inserted the English word since he didn't know Turzent for bimbo. "I should have been in on the conversation."

'What's a bimbo?' Ztar wondered as no relevant translation came through, but didn't dare sneak a peek into Archangel's mind. The human would likely become even angrier if he felt even that minor intrusion. Archangel's ire seemed out of place in its intensity, though. Was it possible the human was entering a molting phase? Ztar had earlier noticed the missing flight feather. That would explain much. Add that to the stress of the kidnapping and ongoing Etagllot threat. Likely the human was overly sensitive to this perceived slight.

Ztar rose and moved in on his companion with a sympathetic face to show his concern. "Archangel, these past weeks have been hard on both of us. I regret my mistake. I just want to be certain you are as safe as we can manage. Will you forgive me?"

Warren stopped and looked warily at Ztar. The Emperor had gotten very good at smoothing things over. That in no way meant he "got it." Part of why Warren had decided to stay with Ztar was to help the man learn what a healthy relationship entailed. This was a perfect teaching opportunity. You simply don't make those sorts of decisions for someone without including them.

"Once you can explain back to me why I'm upset, then we'll consider forgiveness," he instructed with a concerted effort to sound civil. Perhaps by forcing Ztar to examine why he was upset, they'd make some progress.

He felt like a daydreaming student who hadn't been paying attention in class and got caught. Archangel was upset about not being in the meeting; that was clear. What more did he want to hear? 'Are all humans this emotionally confusing?' he questioned to himself. Nothing was ever easy when it came to Archangel's emotional state. 'Turzents are so much more even tempered!' Then the irritation began seep in. Archangel should be grateful for the added security. The Etagllot was a substantial threat and not to be taken lightly. Ztar decided to remain silent and wait to see what happened next.

The silence furthered Warren's irritation. "We're back to the control thing again, Ztar. You continue to make decisions on my behalf. That's wrong – can't you understand that? I need – no, I _deserve_ to have a say in my life. What's driving this control garbage?" he said with a plea of the hands.

Ztar shifted from one foot to the other in growing exasperation. "I'm doing my job, just as Gtar-Cro is. Your protection is our responsibility. You, just like the rest of the court, shouldn't have to worry about your safety. I thought you'd appreciate that!"

Warren put his hands on his hips and sighed deeply. "I _am_ grateful for your concern and Gtar-Cro's desire to prevent a repeat of Ymoz. But Ztar, what you and Gtar-Cro decided goes way beyond safety. An implanted tracking device? It's an invasion of privacy. That's serious decision and one I should have been involved in."

"But it's logical and sensible and only until we've dealt with the Etagllot. Why do you object?"

Warren shook his head. "I don't know how you can't see why I don't like the idea, but we're getting off the point. All I ask is that you respect me enough not to make decisions for me – particularly ones as significant as this one. You're treating me like I'm incapable of doing so."

"That's untrue! But as royal court, certain things you must accept as part of your position. Security protocols being one. If Gtar-Cro feels something is necessary to ensure your safety, this that is what must be done. The Court is to be protected and I trust his judgment in how best to do that."

"And that's your justification for me not being in the discussion?"

They were getting nowhere fast, Ztar felt. Archangel was being illogical. "Actually, yes. Gtar-Cro is doing his best to keep you from harm. You are being stubborn and difficult. Sukja, Jharda, the others – none of them would object like this. Certain aspects of personal privacy are lost at our level, especially in times such as these. Your small concerns about privacy and control pale compared to the threat we're facing. I thought you more sensible than this."

Warren's blood went from simmering to a rolling boil. Small concerns? Stubborn and difficult? "You haven't a clue as to what's really going on here, do you? Not a fucking clue! This has nothing to do with what does or doesn't come with a Court position. It's about respect and dignity – two things that I apparently don't warrant. After Ymoz, I'd hoped for a change. Didn't that prove anything? Why can see understand?" Warren was so frustrated that he had a hard time expressing exactly what he wanted to say. Then it hit him. "Ztar, I'm more than a good fuck. Please, give me some credit for having a _brain_!"

Ztar was shocked by the words. "Where is this _coming_ from? Of course you have a brain. That is exactly what perplexes me. You're being illogical about the whole issue." Then Ztar thought again to the missing flight feather. It was becoming more probable the irrational behavior was hormone driven. If that was the case, there may not be any reasoning with the human at the moment.

"And you're being a bonehead! We're talking in circles and I've had enough," Warren threw up his hands in surrender. "Maybe if you would grow up and consider my perspective once in a while, we'd not be having this argument. But your view is the only one that is valid and to hell with what I want. I'm to kowtow to your commands like a good little companion. The mighty Emperor has spoken!" Then he turned to leave before he said anything he'd regret later.

Ztar the Emperor was insulted. Archangel was being both bad-tempered and disrespectful. "Archangel, I have apologized. I have explained. I'm trying to be reasonable and sensitive to your perspective, but you are overreacting. Perhaps if you're entering a molt, things feel more acute and it's impairing your judgment," he theorized to exiting human.

Warren pulled himself up short and turned sharply back toward Ztar in disbelief. "_What_?!"

"I saw the missing feather. That time of year may not be here yet under normal circumstances, but given the stress of what you've been through, it'd be enough to trigger an early molt. You've said that yourself in the past. So you see, my Archangel, I'm an observant to what's happening with you and I'm trying to take into account your emotional state, but we need to ensure your safety and these are reasonable precautions under the circumstances."

'What in god's name? Mother fucking bastard's thinking my anger is because I have the avian equivalent of _PMS_?!' His anger exploded – not just from this incident, but the consent control, the commands, the times Ztar's superior tone made him feel demeaned; right down to Ztar's insistence that his friend and confidante Moit'de not be told of their kidnapping. Warren drew his hands into fists and couldn't speak for several moments. Finally finding his voice, he closed the short distance between them and looked up into Ztar's face with his most threatening look, wings spread wide. 'Do not resort to violence,' he warned himself. 'Don't do it, Worthington.'

"Go – to – hell!" he spat with a snap of the wings into the dark brown eyes that looked down at him in an all too symbolic pose. Before he changed his mind and punched out the Emperor, he turned and stormed off the balcony, out of their chambers, down the hall, and slammed his hand onto the control panel of his old chambers. The door slid silently open. 'Damn sliders! Where's a good swinging door when you want to slam one?'

He charged in. 'Son of a bitch thinks he can make every decision about my life, not even bother to consult me. And when I get pissed it's because I'm _molting_?! What a bunch of condescending bullshit!'

Warren paced, wings spread reflective of his radiating fury. 'Has he learned _nothing_? Hopeless. Ztar is hopeless! Why am I wasting my time? He'll always be the man in charge and to hell with what anyone else wants. Fucking hopeless!'

Ztar stood on the balcony staring at the distant horizon. "By the gods, he can be difficult!" he spoke aloud to himself.

### --- ###

_Okay, now it's your turn. Share your thoughts and observations – and questions – with me and the other readers. Looking forward to hearing from you!_


	10. Chapter 10

_Greeting everyone! Took me longer to get the final editing done and this installment posted than I anticipated. A lot of life-stuff happened to keep me away from the story this past week. The emotional scenes in this chapter caused me to fuss over them, consider, and reconsider the words and feelings endlessly. But I'm releasing it now for you to judge if I've done the characters justice._

_This chapter is all about internal struggles, emotional cleansings, and revelations. Ztar has yet to hear the three words he desperately prays for, but what about the other three words that are a quieter need? What _IS _at the root of Ztar's controlling behavior? Moit'de and Chef Delme make appearances. And what of Merryth? You didn't think she had dropped out of the picture, did you? _

**Chapter 10**

After the conversation with Archangel had spun out of control, he felt the need to talk with someone more reasonable. Someone who understood the burdens and responsibilities of Court membership – a sympathetic ear. Ztar comm Jharda.

"Emperor. Is something wrong?" she asked, her face filled with concern.

"No, nothing is wrong. I just wanted to check on you. Must there be a problem for me to comm?" He asked with feigned bewilderment. In truth, it probably was what usually caused him to contact his court members unexpectedly.

A strange expression flickered briefly. "It's just that the hour is late here."

Ztar immediately understood – he hadn't thought to check what time it was on Jharda's homeworld. "I'm sorry. I did not realize. It's very late?"

"Quite."

"My apologies if I woke you."

He could tell Jharda was sitting up in bed as the PI viewscreen jostled. Even wakened suddenly from sleep, she was beautiful, he thought.

"Emperor's privilege," she said with a slight grin. "What can the Head of Planetary Relations do for her monarch?"

"It's nothing that can't wait until later. Return to your slumbers, Jharda," he offered, hoping she would insist otherwise.

"Emperor, please tell me what you need or I won't be able to return to those slumbers."

Ztar hesitated. This may not have been a good idea. He reached out to her as a reaction to the argument with Archangel – it would set a bad precedent. "Comm me in your morning. We'll discuss it then."

Jharda's face took on an expression he knew well – the you'll-not-get-rid-of-me-that-easily look. "I am already awake. I will remain awake until I hear what it is you need. You can either tell me now and then allow me to get some rest or make me wait until morning, in which case I get no sleep. What is your desire, my Emperor?"

Ztar sighed. She had him with that one knowing he would not intentionally cause her a sleepless night. "Very well. I actually just needed a fresh perspective and perhaps a bit of conversation that didn't involve a litany of complaints."

"What sort of complaints?" she asked. From the shuffling image, he could see her getting settled in the bed for a talk.

"Today was a day when being Emperor really wasn't…fun." He said out of character just to see how she'd react.

"Fun?!" He heard a quick laugh. "Emperor's aren't supposed to have fun. Ruling is serious business."

"Some days are more serious than others," he leaned back in his chair and got comfortable. "Today was one of those days. First e'Troz tells me that unless we raise taxes, the imperial treasury will soon be running very much in the negative. Rehsaw sent a comm that not only is Mennisa system experiencing increased civil unrest, but Mygra dissention is on the rise. And to add to my day, Gtar-Cro reported on the Etagllot investigation, none of which was good news."

"The Etagllot situation is worse than we thought?" she injected.

Ztar nodded. "Not so much within our borders, at least not that he's found as yet. Outside the Empire, it seems they've resurrected themselves back to nearly where they were 15 years ago, thanks to the Par-Sen and Commonwealth!" Ztar felt his wrath building all over again.

"This is truly disheartening." Jharda's face reflected her feelings at the news. "Is that what is troubling you?'

"The Etagllot situation angers me."

"As it would anyone. You need a different perspective on that?"

He shook his head. "Not really. Gtar-Cro is more than capable of doing what must be done."

"And the treasury problem, that is an ongoing issue that started during the war. It may be touchy subject, but solvable through the usual methods. You don't need a fresh perspective on that."

"No," he admitted.

"Mennisa and Mygra?"

Ztar sighed and gestured a negative.

Jharda's eyes questioned his. "Then what does my Emperor need?"

How far would propriety allow him to go in sharing what was really bothering him. 'Not far,' he answered himself. "This evening, my day only grew more exasperating. At certain member of court is being…difficult. Sometimes I cannot understand his thought process. A simple, straightforward issue of security becomes my controlling his life and him having no input."

Jharda smiled knowingly. "I take it we're talking about Archangel."

"Apparently, I treat him like a bimbo." Ztar used the mystery word Archangel had in their argument. "And it's not a complimentary term."

"What's a bimbo?"

"I wondered the same thing. Can you find out?"

She gave him an understanding grin. "I'll handle it personally."

"Now you see how my day was not fun."

"So this fresh perspective you need is really about Archangel?" The question came with a very sly look.

He was caught. Might as well confess. Ztar sighed heavily and nodded. "Mostly, but I'll say no more on that particular subject. Just know that humans can be emotionally…challenging. Not like Turzents – we're more equable."

At first, Jharda's face revealed surprise and then she laughed. "My Emperor, I'm not so sure I'd describe our species as generally equable. We are a warrior race after all!"

When Ztar thought about it, he had to laugh as well. "True! But at least we're logical. Out of control emotions do not bring success on the battlefield. We may be a fierce people, but it is controlled and measured."

"I'll give you that."

From there, the conversation went several directions until Ztar recognized the signs of weariness in his court member. "I must attend to a few tasks. Thank you for listening to my rambles."

She smiled widely. "You are most welcome, my Emperor."

### --- ###

Warren avoided the man for two days and nights. By remaining in his chambers and only exiting via the balcony, he could come and go without running into the object of his annoyance in the halls. He ignored the new security measures. He ignored the comm and mental calls that began as evening approached the first day. Warren expected that – Ztar did not like sleeping alone.

The second day Ztar kept hounding him, but Warren continued with the cold shoulder. Ztar's mental contacts were becoming laced with mild desperation, yet a thread of irritation was interwoven. All Warren replied telepathically was that Ztar wasn't yet ready to allow Warren to manage his own life. Until that happened, he would stay separate from Ztar.

Warren wasn't being irrational or childish – not completely anyway, he reasoned. He had carefully considered more mature ways of dealing with the situation once he had calmed down. Yet mature resolutions to their disagreements about this fundamental issue hadn't worked. Hell, arguing about the issue hadn't worked. Ztar was still exerting control over Warren. It needed to stop. If Ztar's emotional immaturity was driving his need to maintain control, then perhaps Warren needed to fight fire with fire. He, too, could act immaturely, albeit calculated. Hence, the silent treatment. But if insecurity was behind it all…well, then that was a whole different issue. Warren decided to try shunning first and observe the results. Maybe a couple nights alone would drive some sense into Turzent's thick head.

###

Ztar was very determined the first and second day that he was right. Archangel's safety was top priority and Archangel was wrong to be angry with him about approving the new protocols. Perhaps he should have asked Archangel to meet with him and Gtar-Cro to discuss the matter, but really, what difference would that have made? The protocols would still be in effect. He would take no chances where the Etagllot were concerned.

When he woke up alone the second morning, his conviction began to waver. He had wanted to handle their latest argument on his own and hadn't yet discussed the issue with this aide. Sukja had asked politely if something was amiss between him and Archangel, but Ztar had declined to speak of it. But with no end in sight to the tiff, perhaps a discussion with Sukja was in order. His old friend's perspective may be what he needed.

'Damn the gods, it was so easy when bedmates did as they were told without argument,' he muttered to himself as he headed to Sukja's office, but the attempt to bolster himself through annoyance only went so far. The pain of the shunning was growing sharper by the hour.

### --- ###

"I don't understand why he's so upset," Ztar complained with a heavy sigh. "Nothing I do is right. I try to protect him and he gets angry. He is behaving like a child. He won't even speak to me, Sukja. For two days now!"

Sukja thought if the Emperor growled like an Ozjaerian leirkra, he wouldn't be surprised. They were animals of bad temperament and right now, Ztar's disposition wasn't much better. If Archangel wasn't speaking to the Emperor, nothing was happening in the bedchamber either. That would put Ztar in a very foul mood.

"Has he told you what upset him?" Sukja saw a pattern emerging in the arguments, and he wanted to see if Ztar would also see it.

The two strolled through the palace gardens. While it was still winter in the Imperial Valley, the day was tepid and the two had decided to walk while they spoke.

"He wanted to be included in the meeting for the new security measures. Why? What difference would that make? The new protocols would not be any different if he had sat in on the meeting. Gtar-Cro knows his job and I trust him to do what is required to ensure Archangel's safety. Archangel should trust him also."

Ztar was clenching and unclenching his fists. Something the Turzent normally didn't do. Sukja knew it as a sign of intense emotional discomfort. "What else of late has angered him?"

The Turzent was silent for a many seconds as they strode. "Meaningless things. He was irritated when I made the usual dinner arrangements a few days ago. I ordered for us and planned that we'd enjoy the unusually nice evening on our balcony. He was irritated all through the meal. He didn't say much, but the empathic link was smoldering. Apparently, I was treating him like a bimbo again."

Sukja pulled up short. "Like a what?" The translator didn't come up with anything that made sense for the word Ztar used.

"I had Jharda research the word. It means lacking intelligence and good sense. How did ordering dinner become treating him like a bimbo? By the gods, Sukja, I think my Archangel's mental faculties are deteriorating or he's going into a molt!"

Sukja had to squelch a chuckle at that. "What else?"

"I asked him to wear a particular outfit for the Ennovy-Eiram reception and he was perturbed by that. Said he could handle picking out his own clothes. I thought because he had never attended before, my suggestion would be helpful. That's all it was – a helpful suggestion!"

That nearly forced another smile to cross Sukja's face. Ztar was the last person that should be making attire suggestions. The Emperor had little fashion sense. Sukja and Ztar's tailor had worked to ensure that no matter what the Emperor threw together as an outfit, nothing would clash.

"Is there more?"

"There were other incidents that elude me at the moment. It's little things, like I said." Ztar walked quietly for a few seconds. "Another time was that short trip to Venu Falls a couple months ago. He enjoyed himself after we got there, but he complained that I didn't ask if he wanted to go – that I _told_ him we were going. It was a surprise, Sukja! I wanted a day away, just the two of us. He said we should have planned it together. I can't win!" Ztar said throwing up his hands in a very Archangel-like gesture, much to Sukja's amusement.

They were approaching one of the many benches scattered throughout the large gardens. "Shall we sit?" Sukja asked. "Do you see any connections or common theme in his complaints?" Sukja queried as they took their seats.

"Only that he disapproves of everything I do."

Sukja didn't like absolutes. Just as he knew absolutely Archangel didn't disapprove of everything the Emperor did. The man was hyper-sensitive in his perspective at the moment and perhaps a little shell shocked. But Ztar may not be the only one hyper-sensitized.

"My Emperor, there is likely a commonalty in the behavior. What is your feeling? What are his feelings – what do you sense?"

Ztar frowned. It seemed the Emperor was struggling to find a common denominator. "He doesn't like the decisions I make…that I make any decisions at all…"

"An observation," Sukja offered. "You controlled his life for over four years. Perhaps he is rebounding from that and is now going to the opposite extreme – not wanting anything that feels like control."

Ztar jerked as if startled. "That's exactly what it feels like! He actually said something to that affect, saying I needed to stop being a control freak, if I recall the phrase."

"And if that is indeed what's wrong, then perhaps less decision-making on your part is what is needed." Sukja pointed out the obvious.

Ztar's frown returned. "I don't see what I've been doing as wrong."

Sukja suspected something and felt he should confirm. "Ztar, do you see yourself as the lead in the relationship?"

"Of course I'm the lead. He is my companion and I'm Emperor – it's only natural," the Turzent said with confidence. Then he obviously picked up on a non-verbal clue from Sukja and suddenly looked somewhat less confident. "Isn't it?"

"Not necessarily," Sukja said with a gentle tone. "Those two titles do not automatically translate into who plays the lead role in your relationship."

Ztar looked almost defensive. "I've always been the lead in my relationships."

"Are you certain of that? Even before you became Emperor?"

Ztar was quiet as he likely reviewed past situations. "Perhaps not always," he finally admitted.

"My Emperor, your and Archangel's relationship is completely different from any before. Each relationship we have is unique from all others. Find what works for the two of you and don't try to recreate relationships from the past. If Archangel wants a more equal partnership, you may find that is appropriate for _this_ relationship."

"Someone has to be the ultimate authority in a relationship," Ztar countered.

"Perhaps or perhaps not. Again, it depends on the people involved. Even if you together decide one of you will be the ultimate authority, that power should be reserved for only the most serious of situations where no agreement or compromise can be reached. It is not power used regularly for situations where collaboration is possible."

"Collaboration is useful for many things, yet if taken too far, gets in the way. Sometimes decisions need to be made. Other times, the decision isn't significant to warrant the effort."

"My advice is to have an open and frank conversation with Archangel on his views and see where that leads."

Ztar sighed. "I only want to take care of him…make sure he's safe and happy. Can't he see that? I do these things because I love him, not to hurt him. Yet he takes what I do and sees it as something else."

"Then talk with him."

"We _have_ talked. We've argued. I've apologized more to Archangel than to anyone else I've ever known! It does no good. He still takes what I do and calls it controlling."

"It is obvious you have different paradigms on relationships. Talk about that – the larger issue. Don't focus so much on the resultant problems."

"Your advice has merit and I will consider it. You've given me another perspective."

Sukja smiled. "That's why I'm here."

After they parted company a short while later, Sukja replayed the conversation. One thing jumped out that he hadn't realized at the time. Ztar had not once mentioned being worried about the human leaving over the two-day long quarrel. 'Interesting.'

### --- ###

"Gently, friend Archangel," Moit'de urged with a concerned dart of his eyes to the seedling Warren was transplanting. "Young lixcheon tender."

Warren refocused on his work. "Sorry, Moit'de. My mind was elsewhere." The seedling had nearly become an innocent victim of Warren's reignited irritation with Ztar. It was near the end of day two of the silent treatment and he'd been hiding out with Moit'de most of the afternoon helping with various greenhouse activities. The "don't tell Moit'de" ruling still irked Warren. He didn't like lying and when Moit'de had asked again about Fjai/Gamas II trip, Warren dodged and sidestepped around the topic to the point of it being ridiculous. There was no doubting that the half-hearted maneuverings were obvious to the keen observation skills of the master gardener.

Moit'de sighed audibly – a rarity for the native Sat'reyan. Setting his tool down, the gardener turned to face Warren. "Archangel like angry garden thrype. What upsets you?"

He'd been waiting for this, actually hoping the man would ask. "The usual – Ztar's pigheadedness." Warren used the English term not able to retrieve a Turzent word that communicated the idea quite so precisely.

"Word not understood."

Warren knew Moit'de often didn't use his embedded translator. "He's stubborn – sometimes beyond reason. And controlling. And tends to go overboard on the 'I'm Emperor' attitude." Warren stuffed dirt into another small pot with force. 'Sometimes, I'd like to stuff that Turzent's mouth with something akin to this dirt but more aromatic,' he thought sourly. He looked up as Moit'de placed a hand over his as he worked more dirt into the already topped off pot.

"Pot full. No more needed."

Warren examined his handiwork. "That's me, too. Sometimes I've just had my fill of his attitude. I understand the need when he's being Emperor, but in personal matters? I've tried everything, nothing gets through. He's just so damn dense at times!"

Moit'de wiped his hands on his trousers signaling the end of the transplanting. "Enough lixcheons have bigger homes. Come walk." Moit'de headed for the exit without waiting for a reply. Warren brushed off his hands and followed dutifully.

As they headed away from the building, Warren fell in along side the gardener. "Where are we going?"

"See what Moit'de see."

Warren's curiosity was piqued, but he asked no more questions. Past the outbuildings, down a service path, out toward the fringes of the manicured grounds they walked in comfortable silence. The gardener left the pathway and strode several paces to a small grouping of plants at the transition between palace grounds and the open, wild valley.

"What Archangel see?" Moit'de asked with a wave toward the landscape directly in front of them.

"Plants. Some look like you've planted them, the others I think are natural."

"What more?"

That stumped Warren. "I don't know what you want me to see," he said with a questioning shrug of the shoulders and upturned hand.

"Where end of gardens?"

Warren looked more closely. It was impossible to see a dividing line. "The plants merge together – there's really no clear cut end."

"Truth. Which plants stronger?"

"You mean between the wild and planted?" The gardener nodded. Warren studied them for a moment. "They look equally strong."

"Hybrid strength equal wild strength?"

Warren smiled. "If they're your hybrids, yes, without a doubt!"

"Who take ground?"

"You mean like in a battle? Between the palace plants and the native plants?"

With a dip of the hand in the affirmative, the man asked again, "Who take ground?"

Warren examined the situation. "Well, I see equally matched opponents. I don't know if anyone's going to win."

Moit'de pointed at the scene before them. "That you and Emperor."

Warren jerked mentally. "You're right!" The correlation held. Both he and Ztar were fighting for control over the same ground – Warren's life – and thus far, neither was the victor.

"Fight for same ground. Equal strength. No one win."

Warren nodded. "Good analogy. Ztar is controlling and I'm fighting that control because he's overstepping the bounds."

"Where bounds here?" Moit'de asked with a wave toward the plants.

"We're not plants, Moit'de. We can make conscious choices. And in a relationship, you just don't go around telling your partner what to do all the time or make every decision for them. That's being domineering!"

"Which plants be domineering – be taking ground? Hybrid or wild?" Moit'de redirected back to the landscape.

"Impossible to tell." Warren observed with a shake of his head. "There's no reference line to tell me where the divide is between the palace and valley."

Moit'de shook his head. "Hybrid line in valley. Wild on palace ground. Roots always reaching."

"So the plants have boundary lines, but those lines overlap?" A wave of the gardener's hand indicated Warren understood him correctly.

"Boundaries unspoken, unseen. Learn of other's when touched – when-"

"When they collide," Warren finished, anticipating where the analogy was headed. "Yes, and I've been trying to tell him when he oversteps…sometimes pretty bluntly, but Ztar doesn't listen. Or sometimes I think he gets it, then a few days later, he's back to his old behavior. I'd never treat someone I care about how he treats me. He bosses me around like I'm an underling, not an equal."

Moit'de nodded. "Emperor's roots in different soil. Different boundaries. Look to soil for answers. Emperor's line then be revealed." A tilt of Moit'de's head indicated Warren should take the next conversational step.

Warren contemplated the concept as Moit'de started moving back toward the palace. "I have been fighting the symptoms without understanding the root cause," he concluded as they walked side by side. "I tend to forget that we are different species with different perspectives. But are the differences cultural, his unique background, a combo, what?" he asked looking to his friend for more insight.

"Moit'de no answers. Emperor knows."

"What you've pointed out makes sense. He and I are butting heads constantly because of our different ideas of boundaries."

Moit'de flashed Warren a grin. "Archangel strong like wild plants. Emperor strong like hybrids. Different but equal."

Warren laughed. "A recipe for head butting, right?"

The Sat'reyan shared one of his quiet chuckles. "Truth, my friend. Truth."

###

Warren took to the air as Moit'de disappeared inside the greenhouse. He had a decision to make and the open skies would help clear his head.

The sun was nearing the horizon and the air quickly chilling as he flew above the valley, focusing on those wonderful sensations of wind flowing over his body and the powerful, rhythmic beat of his wings. Spiraling higher, he allowed himself to merge with the aerial environment. Its ability to heal his soul never failed to awe him. Troubles and tension sailed away on the currents leaving him feeling light and free.

Ztar was irritating and pigheaded and obviously had different ideas about his role in a relationship, but he loved Warren without doubt. For some reason, that love was ensnared by a need to manage Warren's life. Why?

Moit'de was right. Ztar knew the answer somewhere in his mind. Consciously or unconsciously, he knew. They just had to figure it out. Tonight? 'Not up to it,' Warren admitted. In the comfort of the heavens, Warren's burning need to resolve the issue had faded. 'No reason to push. Wait for the right moment.'

If Warren stayed away from the Emperor again, it would be the third night. 'Perhaps the punishment needs to end even if the problem remains…for now anyway.' He caught a down draft and rode it toward the palace. 'Kinda miss the big lug,' the thought flashed unbidden, but he pushed aside any contemplation on that can of worms.

Before dinner, Warren found Ztar in his office and he extended his peace offering. Warren agreed to the new security protocols save one – no implanted transmitter. He was firm on that. It took some convincing and a compromise, but Ztar relented. Warren agreed to the transmitter for off-planet excursions, but it was to be removed as soon as he was back on Sat'rey. The issue of control they'd tackle another time. "We _will_ discuss it, Ztar," he told the Turzent.

The Emperor looked as if he was going to protest the point, but did not. His only reply was to take Warren into an almost tentative embrace before saying he had work to finish up before dinner.

### --- ###

Warren woke with a jump when a flailing arm struck him across the ribs with bruising intensity. Warren sat up. Ztar was thrashing in his sleep.

"Ztar, wake up," Warren urged gently, placing his hand to restrain the offending arm. The man's strength was impressive, even more so since consciousness was not limiting it. Warren nearly lost his grip as the obviously dreaming Turzent's arm swung out again.

"Ztar!" This time Warren spoke loudly and was nearly knocked aside when Ztar bolted upright. He watched as the eyes lost their dream-like glaze and focused on him. He placed on hand on Ztar's upper arm that was damp with sweat. "It was a dream, Ztar."

The man blinked a couple times and shook his head.

"Bad one?" Warren inquired softly. This was the third Warren was aware of since Ymoz. It was becoming increasingly obvious how much that incident affected the man.

Ztar nodded and appeared to be ready to exit the bed. Warren placed a hand over Ztar's still-clenched fist. "Do you remember it? What was it about?"

"I need to get up." Ztar slipped out of the bed headed to the bathroom.

Warren decided to do as he told Sukja – talk with Ztar about the episode. Sleep was likely not going to return anyway after such an abrupt waking. He got up and started a pot of coffee and one of tea as coffee didn't appeal to the Turzent. He was finishing the tea prep when Ztar emerged.

"You should go back to sleep. It's still night," the man suggested.

"Not sleepy anymore. If you are, though, I'll go down to my chambers and surf the comnet 'til morning,"

Ztar shook his head. "No, I'm up for the day."

"Coffee and tea will be ready in a few minutes." Then Warren put on his best inviting grin. "Want to snuggle while we wait?" Snuggling was something Ztar could rarely resist. Nothing sexual was involved; they did exactly what the phrase said. It was something that perhaps Ztar hadn't gotten enough of when very young and it seemed to fill a deep need.

The Turzent crawled back into bed without a word, plumped up the pillows against the headboard, and then took Warren into his arms when he joined the Emperor. Ztar immediately began stroking the wing splayed across his chest and lap. Warren took the hand of the arm that encircled him began massaging it gently.

"Nightmare?"

"Yes."

Warren waited for more, but the Emperor wasn't offering. "Tell me about it. Talking helps, trust me."

The man remained silent as his fingers trailed down the length of the outermost flight feather, sending a subtle shiver through Warren. Ztar wasn't the only one who found cuddling enjoyable. The comforting smell of brewing coffee was filling their softly lit chambers. The whole atmosphere was lulling and soothing and Warren was afraid he might actually fall back asleep. Warren was about to press when Ztar spoke.

"I was back at the military development facility where they did the augmentation. Hercjell was there. I think she was in charge. They were doing things to me and to others. There was a lot of pain and screaming. Much more than that is becoming fuzzy now that the dream is over."

Warren wasn't sure Ztar was being completely honest in saying he couldn't remember the dream more fully. Nightmares often stick with a person quiet vividly. It really didn't matter, though.

"The kidnapping dredged up a lot of old pain," Warren offered.

"More than I would have thought."

"Why do you say that?"

Ztar was quiet for a few heartbeats. Warren continued to massage Ztar's large hand and waited.

"I thought I'd dealt with all that. It was years ago."

"The Etagllot got to you where you're most vulnerable." It was the same reaction Warren had when Ztar first forcible took him from Earth. Warren had thought he'd dealt with the Apocalypse kidnapping and all the agony that went with it, but Ztar's taking of him stirred it all up again.

"Is it possible to _have_ dealt with it, yet a similar incident still sends you reeling?"

Ztar was looking at Warren and he turned his head to meet the eyes. "Perhaps. My incident with Apocalypse comes to mind. I'm pretty sure I dealt with the aftermath of that episode, but that doesn't mean it didn't forever change me. Just like your trauma from the augmentation forever changed you, mentally as much as physically. The experience becomes part of who we are and I believe it continues to alter how we perceive things. And in particular, how we react to similar situations."

Ztar faced forward again and leaned his head back. "Fireplace activate," he commanded and it obeyed. "That must be it. But how do you know when you've truly put something behind you?"

Warren contemplated that question for a bit. "I think we sometimes confuse putting something behind us and forgetting it. We never forget it. As I said, it becomes part of who we are. But when the incident no longer affects us in our daily lives in a negative way, maybe then we can say we've dealt with it."

Ztar palmed the wing, starting at the arch that rested just below his chin and moved down the feathers as far as he could easily reach. The feel of Ztar's slow, steady stroke was physically and emotionally calming. Warren rested his head against Ztar's shoulder, allowing the empathic link to transmit his contentment.

"That makes sense. Yet incidents can be suppressed, not affect us in our everyday lives, but not be dealt with either. Then something occurs and it's as if you were back there again – like no time has passed."

"You're right. Suppression is a powerful coping technique, but the drawbacks are many. The issues remain unresolved. Is that what you think you did with the augmentation?"

"Not wholly. I used my anger from that for many years and in many ways. First in my rise to power, then in my campaign to eliminate the Etagllot, and later to build my empire. The anger I think has finally burned itself out, at least from the original incident. I am angry all over again, but it is new anger."

Ztar was staring into the fire as Warren studied his profile. Perhaps the man was thinking the flames symbolized his current feelings toward the Etagllot. "What about the pain? Perhaps your dream is trying to help you recognize and deal with that and the other old wounds. Anger is only one of the fallouts."

"You're talking about the feelings of betrayal, the helplessness, and violation?"

Warren nodded. "Yep, those would be the ones."

"Ignored and repressed I think. I let anger bury them. I see that now." A nearly undetectable shudder ran through Ztar.

"And now this latest incident has uncovered what had been buried."

"And the bad dreams reflect that."

"I'd say that would be a reasonable conclusion," Warren nodded.

"What do I do about it?" Ztar's gaze turned to Warren once again as the coffeemaker signaled completion of its task.

"Just what we're doing. Talk about it. Sometimes all the feelings want is to be recognized and accepted."

Ztar smiled. "Then me and my feelings are in good hands," Ztar said as the arm around Warren tightened in a firm embrace.

"I'll get the coffee and tea," Warren offered, slipping gently out of Ztar's hug.

He felt Ztar watching him as he poured the beverages. The empath was sending tender feelings to him, but Warren wasn't sure it was intentional or accidental. He returned quickly to the warm bed.

After a couple sips, Ztar spoke. "Have you dealt with the trauma I put you through?"

That caused Warren a mental start and he nearly swallowed wrong. It wasn't a conversational direction he expected. They'd been down this path before, but not quite from this angle. To that point, the discussion Warren hoped had been one of honesty regarding Ztar's feelings. Now Ztar would be expecting the same from him.

He looked away and focused on the fire as Ztar had done earlier. It seemed to help to look at something other than the Turzent. Should he be honest or spare Ztar? What did the Emperor need to hear? What would help Ztar continue to heal? Warren gathered himself up. Being honest with Ztar meant being honest with himself – a double-edge sword. He closed his eyes and sighed mentally. Ztar needed him to be honest. He needed to know that one could be honest with another about the hurts inflicted and that it would not destroy the relationship if it were a strong one. Although Ztar's inflicted hurt of Warren was extreme, which few people would expect anyone to forgive.

Reopening his eyes, he began. "Not completely. The anger ran its course, like your original anger toward the Etagllot and military development. The pain, loss, and shame…locked up tight."

Ztar looked like he was about the cry. "My Archangel…" the voice was laden with emotion. Ztar set his tea down and brushed Warren's face with his hand. "You know how sorry I am about that, don't you? How much I regret all I put you through? The shame is mine, not yours."

Emotions were threatening to render Warren mute. He took a sip of coffee and struggled to maintain control. "I know that. I believe you," he managed.

"What can I do to help?" the Turzent wanted to know.

"Just what we're doing. Talking."

"Then tell me about your pain," Ztar asked, eyes bright with moisture.

"First you will tell me about yours from the augmentation. Then I'll tell you mine." Warren redirected the conversation back to Ztar's emotional injuries, but he'd do what Ztar requested, too, if the conversation came back around as that would help the man heal as well. 'And maybe, it'll help you too, fly boy,' he offered himself.

Ztar leaned his head back against the headboard and sighed. "Two words sum up what I felt when they took me – betrayal and helplessness." With that simple statement, it was as if a dam gave way. The emotional tidal wave nearly swept his control away. With great effort, he managed to stifle the sobs that wanted to explode from his chest.

Putting his coffee on the side table, Warren pulled Ztar's arm around him and he held the man's hand in his own, interlacing their fingers. "They took you against your will and did things you could not prevent." Warren fought his own tears – Ztar's feelings hit home.

Ztar nodded. "People I trusted…people who had become my family…they let it happen. My commanders, those I believed in, all betrayed me. No one came to my aid. They looked the other way and left me to my fate." Old angers, old shock, and desperation rose up and demanded to be heard. Ztar's chest hurt with the physical manifestation of the long repressed pain. It all wanted to escape and pounded from inside to be released, but he held it at bay. He trembled. "The lab… it smelled of fear and death. The other soldiers screamed as their bodies tried to adapt and change. Then one by one, they went silent. I'll never forget!" He shuddered violently and squeezed Archangel tightly to him. "They were all good soldiers. Take those with best potential; those who would mostly likely follow orders – that's what I heard MD say. Make sure they're controllable after…"

Ztar gripped Archangel's hand more tightly. "But to the Etagllot, we were less than animals. They showed no emotions, no caring – the ones that died were just another failed test. Haul the body out and bring in the next. We begged them to stop – they wouldn't even answer us. It – it was like they didn't hear!"

When Ztar groaned in remembered horror, Warren rubbed the arm that held his hand in a near death grip. If Ztar squeezed much tighter, it was possible he'd break bones. "You were non-persons to them…a means to an end, nothing more." How well he remembered that same pain.

"I couldn't understand why I was there. Who hated me so? What had I _done_?" He paused as the words were choked off. A couple of deep breaths, and he felt he could continue. "As hard I as tried, I could name no enemy who had such power. I was confused and angry and had no one to blame. And I was terrified. I was going to die a horrifying death. I kept telling myself – you're a soldier; you face the possibility of death every day. But it was so…inconceivable! I would not die a warrior's death – I was going to die as a…a lab specimen." Ztar wanted to breakdown and cry, but he was driven to tell the story…_had_ to tell the story.

"We tried to resist. We whispered our plans to each other when they couldn't hear. None of it mattered. There was no escape…we couldn't fight them." Ztar swallowed hard, trying to speak around the constriction in his throat. "We were prepped…filled with drugs that did to our bodies things we couldn't imagine. One by one, they were taken. The rest of us covered our ears at their screams. Then- then there was only me." A violent shudder gripped him. He buried his face in Archangel's soft, golden hair, eyes squeezed shut. Ztar breathed in the human's scent and focused on that. The emotional torrent calmed slightly. Pulling his face away, he looked down at their joined hands and eased up on the grip he realized was too strong.

"Then they came for me. I tried to fight, but…" His voice became a whisper. "I could do nothing – the bindings were too strong. I couldn't stop them. I prayed to the gods, but- but even they seemed to have abandoned me. They injected me and at first nothing. Then…by the gods, the pain! So much pain… It felt like my body was tearing itself apart from the inside. They did nothing to help me – just watched. I remember screaming until I had no voice. Please let me go unconscious – at least grant me that, I prayed. But no! More pain, more agony – it…it would not end. My Archangel!" His face found the softness of Archangel's hair once again as he wrapped his other arm around the man that was his savior. The emotions that demanded release broke free.

As violent sobs overtook the man, tears ran down Warren's own face in shared pain. He listened and hung on as the Turzent emperor cried in his arms. When the wrenching sobs began to ease, Warren spoke. "Alone in your anguish, you could only endure." The nod of Ztar's head against his signaled agreement. Trembling himself, Warren stroked the strong arms encircling him as the Turzent fought to regain control. He thought back to when Ztar took him and those first horrifying weeks at the hands of then brutal Turzent. Then to Apocalypse and the physical agony he endured as the man morphed his body into something Warren didn't recognize. The emotions Ztar shared were identical to what Warren went through.

"And you wondered what did I do to deserve this? Why am I being punished?" Warren recounted in a choked whisper, his emotions running wild.

Ztar drew a shaky breath as he slowly halted the sobs. Lifting his head, he struggled to find his voice. "You…you know exactly how I felt. It's how you felt when I took you. And when Apocalypse took you."

Warren squeezed Ztar's hand in acknowledgment, having lost his ability to speak.

Suddenly, everything crystallized in Ztar's mind. "I did to you as was done to me." His anger of years ago wasn't only from sexual frustration – it was repressed pain from the augmentation. "What I did to you and to the others… my anger – it was so much more than I believed. I made you go through what I had – the betrayal and abandonment, the pain…and the helplessness."

Warren shifted around to look into the Ztar's eyes. What he found was the horror of a dark revelation. It all came together – it made such simple, perfect sense. Steadying himself, he summed up what Ztar had discovered about himself. "That could be it. You embraced the anger from that experience, but repressed the other emotions. Maybe your subconscious was looking for a way to work through them. Perhaps when you denied the feelings, a surrogate provided a way to re-enact the trauma in an attempt to resolve it."

Ztar shuddered again. "Cruel! No excuse. This explanation is no better than my previous reasoning of why I did what I did – why I had become that monstrosity."

Warren looked sharply at Ztar. "But it is! Don't you see? This has nothing to do with self-gratification. This is about deep, unresolved psychological injury."

Ztar shook his head. "We're speculating. Even if true, I allowed myself to become what I was. I chose to be cruel – one insidious step at a time!" he spat in disgust.

Warren reposition himself onto knees and shins next to Ztar, facing the Turzent straight on. "Ztar, listen to me. It _was_ terrible what you did. Perhaps the reason why isn't what's important. Your feelings of remorse, guilt, shame – they're all perfectly normal. They're a good thing! I'd be worried if you didn't have them, but don't continue to punish yourself." He reached out and brushed the hair off the tear-soaked face. "You found redemption – you made it through the morass and emerged a far better person. Allow yourself some good feelings about that. My god, Ztar – you transformed yourself! I, for one, am damn proud of you. But you have one more step to take. You must forgive yourself."

Ztar stared into the depths of the blue eyes, searching for an answer. Finding none, he drew Archangel into a hug, choking back the urge to breakdown again. "I don't know how," he whispered.

Warren couldn't help with that. It was the very problem he struggled with for things he'd done for which he still carried guilt. How does one forgive oneself? When do you know that you have?

Then another realization came to him. Ztar knew what he needed to forgive himself of his transgressions – Archangel's forgiveness. Without that, how could he possibly absolve himself?

Pushing Archangel gently away, Ztar studied the man's face. Archangel's pain was as intense, perhaps more so than Ztar's, and though they'd talk before of what Ztar had done, the conversations hadn't focused on Archangel's emotional injury. It was time. "What of your pain? It is time we talk of it. Do not spare me, my Archangel. I believe you must say it and I must hear it."

'I don't want to do this!' Warren protested within himself. It would be difficult to say the least. Yet Ztar was right. The time Warren spilled his guts to Atichi was a release, but she wasn't the person who needed to hear it. Ztar caused the trauma and he was the one Warren needed to tell. He gathered himself, drew a deep breath, and plunged ahead before he had time to think too much.

"When you took me, it was horrifying beyond description. Everything you felt with the Etagllot – betrayal, helplessness, the dread – it was all that." His throat was tightening. A couple hard swallows helped. "Nothing can prepare a person for slavery. I had no voice, no choice, no rights. I was nothing but a possession. My life gone for what? I worked hard and risked much to build a life that- that meant something. And you took if from me…for a reason as meaningless as selfish gratification. It was- I was in shock. You stripped me everything, including my self-worth." Then he managed a small chuckle despite emotions that were a swirling chaos. "Or what little of that I had."

When Ztar wrapped his hand around Warren's fist, he nearly lost it. 'Calm yourself, War.' Reaching down to the place he'd used so many times to do just that, Warren composed himself. His heart pounded in his chest at the thought of what he would say next. The memories… the horror…

"And the rapes-" Warren's whispered voice hitched and a tear trickled down. He wasn't certain he could continue. He had to do it, though. He needed to give voice to the trauma, but couldn't look into Ztar's face and do that. Focusing on the hand that wrapped his so completely, he continued. "The rapes…the physical pain…" He squeezed his eyes shut. All the old terrors and shame were rising up. "My pain was irrelevant as long as you got what you wanted. I didn't matter- wasn't worthy of even simple consideration…j-just your outlet." So many memories flooded him Warren felt he'd drown. He focused on breathing to quell the anarchy. "Those first two nights…" A tremor ran the length of his body. "Couldn't fight – couldn't s-stop it." He gulped for air. "Y- You wouldn't stop. Didn't listen…didn't care…" He gripped the arm that extended to him and dug in his fingers. "You _wanted_ to hurt me…I had t-to let you."

The power of the emotions was sweeping him away and an almost hysteria threatened. Reaching deep, he once again quieted the overwhelming emotions into a manageable chaos. He took a ragged breath, reopened his eyes, and stared at Ztar's hand. The hands that had caused him so much pain he now clung to for strength. Such irony! "It…hurt-. Too strong…I hurt everywhere. In-inside and out." He had to work the tightness out of his throat again. "You didn't care. That second time…when you made me feel your lust- it was t-too much. I- I thought my mind would split in two! No escape. Nowhere to run. I couldn't…too much…" Warren could say no more as quiet sobs shook his body.

Ztar was mortified. He knew what he'd done, knew from their empathic link and telepathic probings at the time what Archangel had felt, but that was filtered through the man he was five years ago. Hearing it now was unbearable. He wanted to deny Archangel's pain – it was excruciating to hear. Each recounted pain, each strained word was like a jagged knife to his soul. But he couldn't turn away – would not. His Archangel needed this – needed to release all that torment. If only there was a way for Archangel to know the depth of his remorse and shame. If he could only find the words. Yet even if he wanted to speak, his voice had fled.

After many moments, Warren tried again. "The physical pain I could deal with. Emotionally, the r-rapes wer-" the words stuck in his throat. He swallowed and took a breath. "They were like knife blades to my soul. Then there was the mental intrusion and control. You left me with nowhere to hide. I- I wanted to kill you, but Earth…couldn't jeopardize Earth. I prayed for the X-men to come, but finally realized that would never happen. My body in exchange for Earth's freedom. I had to let you have me…had no submit. I was so- so a-ashamed." He needed to calm the maelstrom once again as it surged through his barricades. It was then he realized how badly he was shaking. "I was trapped, tortured, and abandoned. I hated you more than I thought I was capable of hating. Then even that left me – hating became too much effort. Those last couple months on the ship…hopeless, I felt utterly hopeless."

Despite the near physical pain and emotional wrenching, the telling was cleansing and his strength was returning. Now he could look at Ztar again. "You nearly destroyed me. I really don't know how I survived, but I did. I think I just turned off. It was my only option. And then you started changing. You began to care. But I was still your possession and I dreaded each visit you made to Earth during the war. When you took me again from Earth to bring me here, I hated you all over again, but by then, the hate wasn't as intense. I was worn down. Years of subjugation can do that I think. The fight had left in me. I was resigned to my fate. Now you are someone else entirely from the man who took me five years ago. It's hard to accept you and he are the same person." Warren paused to put a hand on Ztar's shoulder. "Actually, you and he are _not_ the same person. That Ztar died. I don't hate the new Ztar. As I've said before, I'm proud of the person you've become. You hurt me deeply and what I went through has changed me forever, but it's old pain." He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and released it. Reopening his eyes, he looked into the depths of the brown eyes overflowing with tears. "I am letting it go."

With those five words, the pain he'd relived began to dispel. The telling was what he had needed to do. 'I'm…proud of you, War, ole boy. You did good,' he told himself. Pride was something he rarely felt, and he let it settle.

Ztar pulled the hands of the man he loved toward him and held on. It felt as though his life hinged on the answer to what he was about to ask. "My Archangel, I am sorry beyond what I have words for. Is there …is there any way you can possibly forgive me?" Time stopped. His heart pounded in his chest.

Warren wondered for a moment – could he forgive all that Ztar had done to him? In that instant, he knew the answer. "Until now, I wasn't certain I could. Push aside what you did, repress the feelings, bury the pain deep; that I could do. But forgive – truly forgive you?" He looked into the deep brown eyes that begged for absolution. "I forgive you, Ztar." A weight lifted – almost physically. He smiled. "I forgive you," he repeated when he saw disbelief on the Turzent's face.

Ztar never believed he'd hear those words. "You're certain?" he asked in disbelief.

"Ztar, I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it. Yes, I am certain. I forgive you."

Ztar grabbed Archangel. His emotions were a crazy mix that his body wasn't certain how to handle. The result was an almost giddy laugh. "By the gods, you have no idea what that means to me! Thank you from the depths of my soul." Releasing the human, he grasped Archangel's head, one hand to each side and held the beautifully handsome face still. "Thank you," he said to that face, to those eyes, to the man's soul.

They sat quietly for while, regaining their strength and steadiness from the emotional cleansings. Then the workday beckoned and life moved forward.

### --- ###

The next two weeks sped by quickly at the palace. Duties as chief of staff filled part of Warren's days, but he still found himself with more time on his hands than he preferred. Warren toyed with asking for additional duties, but held off. Becoming even more deeply involved in life on Sat'rey wasn't in keeping with his goal – returning to Earth. 'Why make that eventuality even more difficult?' he pointed out to himself.

After their shared emotional expulsions that culminated in Warren declaring Ztar forgiven, things seemed different in some way that was hard to put a finger on. Had that unresolved issue had caused a subtle, underlying tension between them that neither realized? Perhaps the difference was the absence of that tension.

The control issue remained unresolved, but Warren would continue to wait for just the right circumstances. They still needed to get to the root of that issue. The bearing of souls to each other proved to Warren certain issues cannot be forced – their time comes when it comes.

###

Warren and Merryth met again in the gardens to discuss _Shards_. She only had an hour before needing to run an errand in Yaunra during her half-day off. The discussion stayed primarily on the book and author and the hour passed so quickly it seemed over almost before it started. He was close to finishing the lengthy saga and promised himself he'd plan more time for their next meeting. Merryth was captivating and Warren found himself looking forward to running into her in the halls for their quick hellos and how's-your-day greetings.

As much as it pained him, Warren honored Ztar's command and kept Moit'de in the dark about the kidnapping. After their discussion at the edge of the valley, the gardener alluded only once to sensing something had happened during the Fjai trip, but then let it go. Warren appreciated that in his friend.

One afternoon, Warren was hanging out in Delme's kitchen enjoying an afternoon snack. The Chef was working, but stayed near Warren obviously in a mood to chat. It was one of the rare lulls in the usual frenzied activity in the epicenter of gastronomic delights.

"When is the Ennovy-Eiram reception?" Delme gave the caldron steeping on the stove a quick stir. The mouth-water aroma of whatever it contained filled the kitchen.

"In a few weeks. Sukja tells me Ztar always attends, but he hasn't said much about it lately. Maybe with everything going on transition-wise, he'll decide not to go after all." Actually, Ztar would be more apt to decline because of the Etagllot threat, but Delme didn't know about that.

"I've not known the Emperor to decline, except during the war. He has strong ties to that star system."

"How so?"

"I'm not privy to all the details, but they were one of the few systems that joined the Empire truly willingly years back when Ztar was expanding the old Ta'oc Empire." Delme grabbed the large mug resting on the stove and took a sip.

"I didn't know that."

Delme approached the counter where Warren sat, pulled up a stool opposite, and plunked himself down. "I've a serious matter to discuss."

Swallowing his last bite of a sandwich that was as close to a BLT as Delme could conjure. "You have my full attention."

"Our coffee supply is running low."

Warren laughed. "Now that _is_ serious!"

Delme feigned insult. "It is _indeed_ serious. If we run out of coffee, many in this royal residence will have my head."

"Hey, don't blame me! You're the one that wanted staff to try it."

Delme gave Warren an accusatory glare. "It should have come with stern warnings about the addictive qualities. I don't recall you mentioning anything about that."

Warren knew Delme well enough to know the man really wasn't upset, though the gruff head chef looked stern in his reprimand. "Chef, half of humankind is addicted to the stuff – join the crowd."

Delme picked up his mug for another sip of the guilty beverage. "Half of humankind and now half of palace staff. The supply is quickly dwindling. We need to send another shuttle to Earth. You'll make the arrangements?"

Warren nodded still smiling. "I'll save your precious head. Don't want to lose the man who keeps our stomachs full." Warren pushed his clean plate aside.

Delme shook his orange hair-topped head. "It all comes down to that. No one cares about Delme, only that he staves off starvation."

"And so deliciously!"

A small grin crept across the Alcab's face. "I would ask that you make those arrangements quickly or I'll have to resort to raiding your personal coffee supply."

Warren widened his eyes and then narrowed them at the Chef, leaning forward. "I'll _personally_ have your head if you do. Threatening my coffee is a high crime."

"Then you agree with the seriousness of the pending crisis."

"I'll go straight to Lar's office, order the shuttle, and then comm my company."

The Alcab's smile grew large. "I knew you'd understand."

### --- ###

They were at loggerheads. Ztar's need to control and make all decisions had reared it ugly head once again. But what got Warren's goat was Ztar's refusal to see any real problem with the behavior. Not much had changed since Ymoz, the two-day shunning, or their gut-wrenching sharing of old traumas much to Warren's intense disappointment. True, Ztar would be good for a few days, then fall back into the old pattern. In fact, the Emperor had just accused him of being overly sensitive about something of little consequence. As if incessant control was inconsequential!

When Ztar first informed him of the reception, Ztar had the audacity to tell him what he should wear, as if the Emperor should be picking out clothes. Warren had let the whole invitation acceptance thing go in favor of the smaller example of the depth of Ztar's control problem. With mention of the reception coming up in a few weeks, Warren had called out the error of Ztar's way in accepting without consulting him, and the Emperor immediately got defensive.

"All you had to do was ask me. Is that so difficult?"

"I knew what you'd say, so I went ahead."

Warren crossed his arms and eyed the Emperor. "You read that in my mind?"

Ztar was scrounging around in the kitchen for something. Warren had no idea what. Maybe nothing at all and it was just an excuse not to look at him.

"No-o-o, I did not read you." A cabinet door slammed loudly as an exaggerated sigh emanated from the Turzent as he turned toward Warren. "I know you, Archangel. Your answer would be yes out of a sense of duty if for no other reason."

Warren felt like growling. Ztar was so exasperating, thick-skulled, and completely clueless at times. "For the love of God, Ztar, respect me enough to ask once in a while. Just to humor me if nothing else!"

He turned to face his oppositional member of court. "None of the other court members have a problem with how I make decisions. Why are you being so-" The look on Archangel's face made Ztar stop short. The wings flicked and the eyes were like daggers. If looks could strike him dead…

"Why am I being so…what?"

'Perhaps now is the time for a strategic retreat,' Ztar told himself as images of a bed devoid of the human loomed large. "You're right, Archangel. I should have asked you about the reception. With the other court members, I command their attendance and they accept that as part of their duty. I accepted the invitation out of habit."

"But this isn't my duty, Ztar. I'm not going as a member of your power circle. I'm going as your," God, he still hated the next word at times, "companion. I have a choice, or at least that is what you've lead me to believe. Do you understand the difference and why I wanted to be asked?"

The Ennovy-Eiram unification celebration was a big deal, Warren knew. It was held once every two system years to commemorate the anniversary of the two independent worlds unifying under a single, twin-planet government. Ztar always attended and always with a companion at his side according to Sukja. Something to do with Ennovy-Eiram cultural perceptions apparently. Attending as Ztar's escort would be decidedly uncomfortable for Warren in spite of having been so for over five years. During that time, his role had been quiet and private, but the event would very publicly announce that Warren was Ztar's companion. Ztar was right, though; Warren would have likely sucked it up and agreed to go for Ztar's sake. But it would have shown progress if Ztar had thought to _ask_ Warren.

"So I'm to ask you before I make _any_ decisions about us?" Ztar questioned. He still hadn't figured out the rules concerning the asking business. When to ask versus when going ahead with a decision was acceptable. He continued to grope for the invisible line Archangel had drawn – a line that seemed to shift with each situation.

"Actually, that would eliminate a lot of arguments," Warren said seeing an opportunity.

Ztar sighed. "That's impractical. You are Court and the Ennovy-Eiram celebration is an official event. Therefore, I shouldn't have to ask you any more than I had to ask the other Court members. Why do you fight me so?"

"Because you refuse to see my perspective. I just want to be asked – not ordered."

"But this is duty – not a private matter. All together different."

"How is it different?" Warren challenged.

"You're Court. I'm head of Court. We have duties to perform and a chain of command to respect. At times, I will give you commands as part of being Emperor."

"In what capacity am I attending?"

"As a Court member." Ztar was feeling suspicious about the path Archangel was leading him down. He sensed a trap.

"What is my Court title?" This was going exactly where Warren wanted it to go.

Ztar hesitated. Archangel was Imperial companion – a decidedly _personal_ position. He had no real Court title, yet his role as companion did come with obligations.

"What is my title, Ztar?" he pressed.

Archangel had no court title, he was simply 'of Court.' The human was trying to use that to his advantage. "You are my companion _and_ Court. As such, you hold a public position and the reception is a public event."

'You're not weaseling out of this that easily,' Warren thought privately. "Court or not, I'll be attending as your _companion_. The only reason I'm going is because their culture requires you to have an escort for the reception. You can take anyone – it doesn't have to be a Court member. I have no official Court duties or obligation to attend official events. It's clear – you should have asked."

Companions _do_ have public obligations to their Emperor. Ztar could argue further on that point, but to what end? Archangel had made up his mind on the matter and likely would not back down. For both their sakes, he'd give on this issue. "Very well," he began trying to keep the exasperation out of his tone. "Will you attend the Ennovy-Eiram reception with me?"

"No."

Ztar was stunned. "What?"

"No. I will not attend. I have no interest in going." He said fighting the desire to cross his arms in a defiant stance.

"But- but you must go. I need an escort!"

"You can find someone else," Warren suggested and moved to find something strong to drink in the liquor cabinet. "I'm sure there are plenty of people who'd love to go as your escort."

'This is infuriating!' Ztar silently decried. "You're simply refusing because I didn't ask earlier."

"No, I am not. If you had asked me earlier, I probably would have begged off then, too. I really don't want to go." It was a slight untruth, but he wanted to make his point.

"You must go. I need you there."

"No, you need an escort. Ask someone else."

Ztar strode toward the stubborn human. ""It is your duty."

Warren swung around, anger instantly ignited, but he held it in check. Anger would only create more anger. "Ztar, this isn't about my refusing to go with you, this is about you not asking if I wanted to go. You _decided_ I would go." He remembered Moit'de's words – "Emperor's roots in different soil. Different boundaries. Look to soil for answers."

Before the Turzent could respond, Warren continued. "Let's sit. I need to understand your perspective better and you need to understand mine. Then maybe we can figure out why we're at loggerheads so much."

Ztar was a surprise. The argument had been defused before he knew what was happening. Archangel calmed just when he had expected the opposite. Curiosity piqued, he followed the human to their sitting area, drinks in hand.

"I want you to go first. How do you see my role in the Court and in our relationship?" Warren opened, after settling into his favorite chair. He took a sip of Raimami and waited in anticipation.

Ztar quickly reviewed in his mind the concept he had of Archangel's position. "You're equal to the other Court members, but in a different way. You have a position no one has ever held that I know of…you are my companion _and_ royal court. I wanted to name you to court to reflect how important you are to me. How vital your role is…" Ztar's throat tightened with unexpected emotion. He took draw from his glass to steady himself.

"So you gave me the title to raise my status in the eyes of everyone else," Warren concluded.

Ztar gave a half-nod. "Yes, in a way. Throughout our history, companions were of relatively low rank. I didn't want that for you. I wanted to make sure all understood how highly I regard you and that I expected them to see you as an equal."

Warren considered the information for a moment. It made complete sense knowing what he did about the status of imperial companions in the Turzent history. They were beneath Court and palace heads of staff, but slightly above regular palace staff. In military terms, they were sergeants amongst majors and generals.

"I think it worked, don't you?" Warren queried with an encouraging smile. His anger had completely dissipated. 'This may turn out to be a very good idea,' he believed.

Ztar nodded. "With the Court, indeed. And most of the palace staff, with a few exceptions," Ztar inferred Housemaster Rja and other minor staff that had disapproved his Archangel's being named to Court.

"And what about my duties as a Court member – what do you see those being?"

"Personal attendant – like Sukja used to be, but focused on the personal aspects. And palace chief of staff."

There was an obvious gap. "Where does the Ennovy-Eiram reception fit into those two duties?"

Ztar blinked. The reception didn't fit. "I see that more as a companion duty."

"And what are my duties as your companion?"

Ztar smiled slyly. "I think that's rather obvious. And you're quite exceptional in your performance of those duties."

Warren actually felt a blush rising, something that rarely happened. "Aside from the _bed_, Ztar – which, by the way, I wouldn't call a _duty,_" he added with a lopsided smirk. "What are my duties as your companion?"

"To be at my side and attend events like the reception as my escort."

"So you see my attendance as a responsibility."

"Yes. Companions have social obgliations to perform in service of their Emperor. It's been that way throughout our history."

Warren was seeing things very differently in that moment. It explained much. "Therefore, my going with you to the big party is a part and parcel to being a royal companion."

"Precisely – part of your position."

"What else are companions suppose to do?"

Ztar took a moment to gather his thoughts. "Support the Emperor's decisions and promote his agenda when the opportunities present themselves. To be a confidante. To tend to the Emperor's emotional and private needs."

"Anything else?"

Ztar reviewed quickly. "Those are the major functions."

"Of what of an emperor's role towards his or her companion?"

This part was clear-cut in Ztar's mind. "To provide for you and ensure your well being. To take care of you."

Warren leaned forward. "Then we've found our disconnects."

"What do you mean?"

"This is what I think I'm hearing from you. The role of companion comes with duties and responsibilities anchored in Turzent tradition – some public and some private. From how you're describing the role, it sounds more like a job than a loving partnership. Is that how you meant it to come across?"

Ztar frowned. Archangel made a valid point. "Being a companion is a job, as you say, but only in part. The public side of your position does carry expectations, but I didn't mean it wasn't also a pairing."

"Here's my take on it. See if you notice the difference. I see a companion's role as one of chosen devotion. The companion should love his or her emperor and the emperor should love the companion. They're together because they want to be and support and care for each other out of that love. True, there are duties and responsibilities that come with the public aspects of their titles. But where the public and private overlap, those duties are carried out respectful of the other each other's needs and desires. It is a relationship of mutual respect first and foremost."

Ztar listened carefully to Archangel's words. The viewpoint was vastly different than the one he had offered. "You are right – we're disconnected. My view is a blend of the historical role and my own wishes for you. Traditionally, the role of companion was very much one of obligation and often not a voluntary position. It has always been the Emperor's right to select whomever he or she chooses as a companion, whether that person wants the position or not."

"Forced royal companion is a Turzent tradition?" Ztar nodded. "I shouldn't be surprised. That's often been true on Earth as well throughout history." Things were definitely jelling on the source of their head butting.

"I like your viewpoint better. It's more…loving," Ztar smiled warmly.

Warren laughed softly. "Yes, but it comes with a price. The emperor must ask and take the companion's desires into account. Do you think you can do that? You're pretty bossy."

His and Sukja conversation came instantly to mind. "I'm being too much of a lead in our relationship?" he asked.

"If you mean who wears that pants in our relationship, yes. I prefer more collaboration and being told what to do all the time drives me over the edge." Then Warren had another angle he wanted to explore. "Before you became Emperor, I assume you had one or two serious relationships."

'Jharda,' Ztar answered in his mind, but kept that to himself. "A couple."

"Male or female?"

"Female."

"And you were lead in those relationships? I can't image that as strong and independent as Turzent women appear to be, that being so bossy would have gone over very well."

'Hadn't thought about that,' he admitted to himself. Turzent women were very independent in general; as strong-willed and capable as their male counterparts. It was one of the traits that had served their people well as a warrior race – both genders of strong minds and bodies. 'Am I truly treating Archangel with less respect than I would one of my own kind?'

A change came over Ztar and his whole body took on a different demeanor. Warren didn't want to read too much into it, but he thought perhaps he had struck a cord. He remained silent while Ztar appeared to mull over the idea.

Ztar looked into the face that was expecting a response. The human's observation was valid – with a Turzent female companion or mate, he would never presume to make decisions without first consulting. He would not have been as patronizing to a Turzent as he had been with Archangel when the human first took over Sukja's personal attendant duties, pointing out each task not done as it had been done previously. Try that with a Turzent woman and he'd put in his place in short order, emperor or not! As revelation dawned, he leaned toward his beloved.

"You are right. I would not command a Turzent mate as I have you. It would be disrespectful."

"Then why?"

'Good question!' Ztar responded silently. 'Why indeed?' The longer he contemplated, the more Ztar felt he himself had not accepted Archangel as an equal, despite his whole reason for naming Archangel to Court. Did that come from their past where Archangel was simply a bedmate and Ztar's property? He ran the span of their relationship quickly through his mind. Archangel had gone from a possession taken only to satisfy carnal need to being a treasured part of his life. Somewhere in his mind, was Archangel still a possession to be used and controlled? The more he considered it, the more he felt that was the problem.

He took a breath and plunged ahead. "I think it's how we started, Archangel. That must be it. You were less than a person to me when I first took you. You were there to satisfy my needs and your needs were of no significant consequence. Any that you had, Sukja took care of, but only so that you would remain in my service. I wasn't to be bothered with such details." As the words were spoken, Ztar grew more convinced they'd found a cause for the behavior Archangel was been riling against for months.

Was this a breakthrough? Warren never took his eyes from the Turzent while he spoke.

"That's the cruel truth. I fear some of those old habits haven't yet died. Perhaps somewhere in my subconscious I haven't yet accepted you as an equal. But now I see what I've been doing. I know you are as deserving of respect and consideration as anyone, but I think part of the old Ztar is still there, clinging to old perceptions." Ztar gazed deeply into his companions crystalline-blue eyes and saw relief that Ztar finally 'got it' as Archangel would say. "I vow to you that will no longer be the case. But should I misstep, I'll trust you to tell me and set me right."

God almighty, perhaps he finally got through! Weeks of talking and arguing and butting heads and now Ztar may actually have seen the light. "You bet your sorry ass I'll set you straight!" he said in mock warning, but he followed it with a large smile.

Archangel's smile immediately lifted Ztar's spirits. He'd give away his entire kingdom for that smiling face. "Will you yet again forgive this Turzent who sometimes is a little slow in seeing things clearly?" Ztar asked hopefully. "I know you've already let so many hurts go by and I seem to continue to add to that list, but I _do_ love you. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Warren nodded. "I know you do. Just remember to treat me with respect so I won't have to take two-by-four to your head anymore."

Ztar didn't quite understand the reference, but the rough idea came through and Ztar laughed. It was getting late and Ztar glanced over to the sleeping area. In a swift move, he was out of his chair, snatched up the surprised human, and had them on the bed before Archangel could protest.

"Now we get to the making up part." Ztar used the phrase he'd picked up from the human.

Warren laughed at the ambush. "You apologized just so we could get to the good stuff. You're a sly one, Emperor!"

Ztar loved making up, it was the best part of fighting and he got right to the good stuff with his Archangel.

### --- ###

_Thought I'd end this one on the upbeat. I know…doesn't happen often. Don't know what came over me - LOL. _

_Next chapter will ease us back into life beyond the palace as those problems once again demand attention. _


	11. Chapter 11

_Yes! Chapter 11 went much more quickly that the last couple, much to my relief. The segment spans an indeterminate length of time, so you won't get many clear time references. Let's just say enough passes for certain things to have come about and leave it at that. _

_The tone is less emotional for the most part – more like an extended interlude. At least the first half, that is. Warren takes a much-needed break and Merryth makes an appearance. At chapter's mid-point, though, Ztar makes a decision that leaves no one happy; in the process displaying a little old Ztar attitude, much to Warren's chagrin._

**Chapter 11**

Warren felt the need to get away strongly. So much had happened since coming to the palace. The list was filled with emotionally exhausting events – being taken from Earth, his struggle to adjust to life on Sat'rey and how to handle being with Ztar full-time, the pressures of grand reception, taking over management of palace staff and most of Sukja's personal attendant duties, and his decision to finally give in to Ztar's desire for a willing companion in order to help Ztar heal. After that, he and Ztar butted heads – a lot. The Turzent had continued to make all the decisions and control him until the light bulb finally went off. And the universe seemed to have decided he didn't have enough to contend with, so it threw in not one but two kidnappings – the first complete with torture and rape. So many of the events overlapped in an emotional cyclone that in retrospect, Warren was amazed he'd survived.

'My god, how did I make it through all that with my sanity?' he wondered, truly impressed with his own strength. 'You're a survivor, Worthington. No one can question that!' It took a lot for Warren to allow himself pride, but even with his battered self-esteem, he had to admit he'd done good. 'Second time of late. Sign of things to come?' he wondered at the self-congratulations.

Ztar seemed happier than ever. After Warren's forgiveness, the Turzent appeared taller, stronger, and more content than he could remember. Even Sukja voiced noticing a difference. Warren only smiled at that. If Ztar wished to share what had transpired, he'd leave it to him to do.

With no events planned at the palace and nothing of consequence coming down the pike for the next many days, Warren decided the timing was right. 'Yep, get away while the getting is good,' he told himself. Some alone time was just what he needed.

Warren had decided on a mountain trip. It would do the most for his soul. He and Security Chief Lar made the arrangements. While Lar hesitated at first under the new security protocols, he relented when Warren said Lar could send as many guards as he liked as long as Warren didn't see any of them, save two elite guards. Warren even bit the bullet and had the transmitter embedded as he had agreed to do, with Vozeipar'de doing the honors. So the accommodations were set, the shuttle reserved, and the elite guards selected. He chose Gragne as the lead guard, the one that had been on the terrorist rescue and had traveled to Ennovoc prison when Warren confronted Drex. He liked Gragne.

When all the details were complete, he sighed. Just thinking about being alone relaxed him. Well, he and his guards, but they would stay in the shadows. Ztar took the news well that he'd be on his own for two days, much to Warren's relief.

"I'm glad you're getting away. It will be good for you," is what Ztar had actually said. Warren took as another sign of progress in Ztar. Perhaps the time when Warren could return to Earth was approaching faster than he thought.

The early morning shuttle ride to the private cabin in the mountains took less than a Sat'rey hour. Warren told Pilot Wheichen that he needn't push it – part of the fun of vacation was the anticipation of arrival. Wheichen and co-pilot Lattim'de wished him an enjoyable vacation and then the shuttle darted off into the sky, leaving Warren and his two elite guards at the leveled grass patch that served as the landing pad for the two-cabin property. The guards would have the smaller of the two cabins as only one would be sleeping at a time while the other stood watch. Warren could only wonder what other security forces Gtar-Cro and Lar sent to ensure his safety. Hopefully, he'd never seen them and consciously chose not to think about them.

Warren took a deep breath of mountain air and looked around. The setting was as picturesque as the comnet information promised. Nestled to one side of an expansive mountain meadow, the cabins were hidden amongst the trees. High mountain peaks still white-capped from the winter snows surrounded the meadow. Spring was just coming to the lower elevations and the air was cool and crisp, but the sun felt warm on the skin. He spread his wings slightly as the open sky tugged.

Apparently, the movement did not slip by the alert guard. "Go on, Archangel. We'll take care of this," Gragne said with a nod toward the cargo tubs.

"Thanks, Gragne." And then he was in the air. Higher and higher he soared with powerful beats grabbing as much air as he could manage for rapid ascent. He wanted thrill of speed and self-propulsion. The air quickly became cold and he leveled out when he reached the height of the highest mountain peaks. Taking a breath and blowing it out his mouth, he made his own mini cloud. He shivered both with the cold and in simple delight.

The area was breathtaking in its majesty. Wild and free and his mood quickly altered to match his surroundings. This space was his and his alone for the next two days. No Ztar, no Sukja, no palace staff – no one to demand his attention or his time. He glided downward in spirals to leave the worst of the cold behind.

This would be only the second time since he was brought to Sat'rey that he and Ztar would not be in the same building overnight, and one of only a handful of times they would not be in the same bed. And as much as he cared about Ztar, being separated for two days was going to be wonderful. Lazily circling the meadow, he anticipated reading by the fireplace in the evenings and sipping hot coffee on the cabin porch in the cool mornings. Two full days with nothing to do but what he wanted to do. Freedom – it would be blissful!

Spreading his wings to their farthest reach, he road the air currents of the warming morning air. Up and down, sometimes gently, sometimes with that leaving-the-stomach-behind sensation he loved. Having climbed another strong updraft to its apex, he pulled in his wings and let himself fall. Then he performed somersaults and spread-eagle spins and other sky-diving freefall acrobatics for the sheer joy of it. He threw in a peregrine falcon corkscrew dive as the ground rushed toward him. At what some would consider the last moment, he snapped open his wings just enough to catch the air needed to turn his headlong dive into a swooping change of course, coming within a few feet of the tall meadow grasses, whooshing them in the process. Then he pulled up hard letting momentum boost his acceleration and he left his stomach on the valley floor.

"God, I love flying!" he exclaimed aloud to the mountains in his unbridled joy. And at that moment, in that joy, he felt like his old self again from years ago. He felt good and whole and at peace with who and what he was. The intensity of the feelings brought tears to his eyes and even those felt good.

The sun was high in the sky when he finally landed. Gragne and the other guard, Abmirzarcz, whom Warren didn't know that well, had seated themselves just at the edge of the meadow in chairs likely pulled from the cabin porch. The spot gave them a good vantage point to keep an eye on their charge. Abmirzarcz was from a planet called Tchutchka, which was about the extent of Warren's knowledge of his species. They smiled at him as he landed.

"Get a good workout?" Gragne asked.

"Excellent."

"There's an empty chair here if you'd like to sit for a few minutes," the man offered.

'Why not?' Warren thought. There was also a tall glass of a lime-green beverage on the armrest.

"That's neibru juice – very refreshing and quite nutritious. I have a glass every morning."

"Thanks," Warren said settling into the chair. "Haven't tried that before."

"I think you'll like it. One of these days, I'll convince Ab here that he should be drinking a glass every day for its health benefits. He could use it."

Abmirzarcz snorted through his almost snout-like nose. "I may do that if you didn't constantly remind me it improves brain function."

The three men laughed in unison. They spent the next hour talking about their families and homeworlds and anything else that came to mind.

"Well, you didn't come here to spend time with me and Ab, so we'll melt into the background and let you have your alone time," Gragne announced getting up, jabbing his partner in the arm.

"I enjoyed talking with you," Warren insisted, but he was anxious to explore his sanctuary after getting some food. He was now ravenous. Chef Delme had prepared and packaged enough food for a small army, judging from the size of the containers. The tubs had been clearly labeled "Archangel" and "Security" and Warren's should be waiting for him in his cabin.

Once inside, Warren unpacked. One tub contained his coffeemaker and coffee, along with tanquer root tea and an assortment of other beverages, including the prerequisite Dison. The other container housed prepared meals in such abundance that even Warren would have a hard time finishing it all. Near the bottom, Warren found a scrawled note: "Hope this is enough food for our always-hungry chief of staff!" It made him chuckle. The Chef obviously couldn't resist a friendly jibe.

Once the food was stored away and he'd eaten his second breakfast of the day, Warren headed outside to explore the old fashion way – on foot. He had read about trails that left from the cabins and after a bit of searching, found one that lead into the woods. Somewhere behind him, he knew Gragne and Ab would follow, but they would hang back. Soon the trail met up with a woodland stream that gurgled soothingly as it meandered through the mountain shrub trees and tall woodland fern-like plants that blanketed the forest floor.

Warren stopped and closed his eyes to tune into the sounds of the woods – soft rustling of vegetation in the breeze, scuttling of the forest creatures, babbling of water over stones, the calls of insects and animals, and the murmuring sounds of the two men behind him as they quietly spoke to each other. Then he focused on the smells of the woods – musty, earthy, a hint of something acrid like that of decomposing vegetation. He delved deeper into his senses to feel the moist air on his skin and the coolness that enveloped him. Reaching out he pushed his senses to their limits, almost tasting the air and hearing more than he had moments earlier.

Then something clicked…in his head?...somewhere…within him and his already acute senses expanded. Suddenly he was bombarded with a clarity of sensory perception he usually only felt during a hard molt. He swayed from the impact, and firmly planted his feet while he calmed the wild chaos of sensory bombardment. Breathing slowly, steadily, the chaos became orderly once again. Now with what were hyper-senses even for him, he opened his eyes and took in the world through feral senses. Strangely, he had not lost any of his higher cognitive functions, which sometimes happened when his feral brain became more active. With a detached curiosity, he thought 'This borders on new.'

Now he could hear the men down the trail from him in total clarity talking about their upcoming time off. Every sound was magnified, yet not overwhelming. He could smell so many things he could not put a name to. Then as suddenly as it began, the hyper-senses switched off.

"Interesting," he said aloud to himself and the woodlands, briefly wondering if indeed his body was preparing for a molt.

Continuing down the path, Warren turned his thoughts to something he checked in on regularly – the to-do list he'd created after nearly dying from Wynnar-Qxani. It hadn't grown much shorter in the past several months. Ztar still hadn't agreed to getting scanned for nannites. Warren hadn't learned anything more about his near death from the W-Q virus and the mysterious glow Sukja and Ztar described – the Etagllot kidnapping interrupted those plans. And Ztar still needed him, but he saw progress; most significant being Ztar's two emotional revelations. Warren continued to connect with Charles and Atichi more regularly and his friendship with Moit'de continued to deepen, but he hadn't pursued a greater friendship with Niat and Splythe. Spending time with Sukja was hit or miss with Sukja's schedule seeming to become more jam-packed every week.

Getting Ztar to agree to the micro-scan may be the easiest to accomplish. 'I'll simply wear the man down,' Warren thought with a silent chuckle. Warren was confident Ztar would eventually consent; he just needed a little pushing and prodding.

Learning anything more about golden glow linked to his miraculous W-Q survival would likely have to be done at a facility with scanners that detect deep, potential energies – the medical equipment at the palace just wasn't designed for it, though Vozeipar'de had tried. Warren wasn't about to go any near Fjai at least for a while even though they offered the best shot at learning more. That to-do may need to wait until he returned to Earth and the X-men's own highly advanced scanning equipment, much of it Shi'ar technology.

One thing that wasn't officially on his list was getting Ztar to ease up on the controlling behavior. In Warren's opinion, it was a critical step in Ztar letting go. If you feel you need to control someone, he doubted you would ever be able to release him or her. While Warren believed they might have gotten to the root cause of the behavior, time would tell if Ztar would indeed change.

As Warren followed the winding path and its liquid companion, he let to-do thoughts fade. Obligations and commitments wasn't what this retreat was about. This was for him to recharge his depleted inner resources. With everything that had occurred the past year, he was feeling tapped out emotionally, physically, and mentally.

'Likely you need two months not two days, War ol' boy,' he figured, but two days is what he had.

The path emerged into a small clearing where someone had thoughtfully placed a bench next to the stream. It looked like the perfect spot to sit and contemplate or simply take in nature, and so he did, settling in cross-legged. Contemplating he'd decided was off-limits, leaving immersion in the setting. As he had done earlier, he opened up his senses and just let himself go.

As he listened, watched, and felt the wilderness around him, the tensions in his body and mind starting melting away. Closing his eyes, he took in deep breaths and released them slowly, putting himself into a meditative state. Warren sat there a long time, aware only of his breathing and the sounds of nature. And his soul sighed in relief.

###

Back at the palace, Ztar refocused empathically on Archangel when he felt something different in the connection. He had lightened the link to the barest touch when Archangel had departed knowing the human needed time to himself, but the subtle change piqued his curiosity. What Ztar felt was peacefulness and a deep stillness. If this is what getting away was giving Archangel, it had been a very good decision.

Ztar would miss Archangel, but after everything the man had been through since coming to Sat'rey, a little sacrifice on Ztar's part was of no consequence. Archangel needed to heal himself from so many emotional injuries, both old and new. Perhaps the best way for him to do that was to be alone in the environment that fed his soul – the mountain skies.

Ztar backed off on the empathic touch. 'Yes, this was an excellent idea,' he concluded.

###

That evening, blissfully alone in his cabin, Warren turned on the fireplace and sat on the plush rug on the floor to watch the flickering flames. The afternoon meditation had worked wonders. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so relaxed. He just kept sighing, a physical sign of his body and mind continuing to shed stress. "Could stay here forever," he told the fire.

Picking up the book he brought, he read by the light of the fire. After a while, he realized how exhausted he felt, but it was that wonderful kind of exhaustion that remains after built up worries and stress have departed. Warren simply stretched out on the soft rug and almost immediately was fast asleep.

###

Day two saw him up shortly before the sun. Rising from the floor, he was stiff and wondered if he'd moved at all in his sleep. Warren did a few stretches and decided the best way to work out the rest of the stiffness and kinks was in the air. Still in his clothes from the previous day, he exited the cabin and within two paces was airborne. It was quite cold and he realized quickly he should have found something warmer to wear, but didn't want to go back now. He'd tough it out for a little while.

He quickly reached a height were he met the rising sun and relished the feeling of its rays on his skin. Even at that early hour and at his altitude, there was warmth in the sunlight. Performing a few aerial routines, the stiff muscles quickly loosened and he began to warm from the exercise. He couldn't generate enough heat, though, to ward off the coldness of the air, so after a bit, he headed back to the cabin for a hot shower and breakfast.

After the hearty meal, he decided to sit for a while on the porch with a large cup of coffee. Later, he'd go for another flight or maybe a walk, or both. 'Decisions, decisions!' he mused with a stress-shedding deep sigh. Once he finished the coffee, though, he felt the sudden need to comm Charles. Having no idea whether it was day or night on Earth, he'd leave a message as the odds of Charles being near the comlink weren't the best. When his friend answered, Warren was pleasantly surprised.

"Warren! So good to see you!" Charles looked incredibly happy to hear from him.

"Same here."

Charles' face took on a concerned expression. "Is everything alright?"

Warren laughed. "Yes, Charles, no kidnappings, no near-deaths – nothing," he joked. "Actually, I'm on vacation in the mountains – just _me_…and the guards of course."

Charles smiled knowing how much Warren loved the mountains. "That will be good for you. You deserve the break and time to gain a fresh perspective." The emphasis on 'just me' did not elude Charles, but did surprise him a bit. Ztar not being there he'd take as a positive omen.

Warren could have bristled at the inference, but chose not to. Charles' concern came from his fatherly love of Warren and he appreciated the man's worry. "I'm recharging my batteries and it feels great. What's new with you?"

"More of the same back here."

Charles went on to bring Warren up to speed on their latest trials, tribulations, and some of the happier news from the estate and the world in general, while Warren sipped coffee. Being away from his blue-green world had given him a different perspective – a more detached viewpoint. What he saw from afar saddened his heart. Same old problems…just different names and places. Would humans ever stop trying to kill or conquer each other? The human race was in constant anguish, never at peace; split from within by genetics and belief, Earth was not a happy planet. Yet despite everything, hope for a better future had not died. Quite amazing when you thought about it.

"Compared to your lives, mine's a cakewalk, Prof."

"Don't let the situations here deter you from coming home." There was instant concern in the voice, almost as if Charles had read his thoughts.

"Not to worry. I'll be back at some point. In fact, that time may be approaching. Ztar is doing better all the time." Warren risked talking positive about Ztar even though it would make Charles uncomfortable. Sure enough, he watched as Xavier visibly stiffened. If only Charles would believe in Ztar's change.

Charles' plan to extricate Warren from his situation immediately came to mind. The pieces were mostly in place. The waiting was all that remained. 'One way or the other, my friend, you _will_ be coming home,' he silently vowed to his X-man. "We all look forward to your return, Warren. We miss you." He put an encouraging smile on his face.

"Speaking of Ztar, Earth's transition should be on schedule. Has anyone been in contact with you?"

"Only general comms concerning the timing. As they've stated, there is very little to prepare for since they have all but decided Earth won't be actively involved in Imperial affairs. What of Ztar's offer for me to probe him? Has he back out on that?" As time had passed, Charles had begun to believe the offer was empty, which didn't surprise him.

"Meshing schedules has proved more of a challenge than I realized, but we're working on it." Warren read his friend's face and found doubt. "Ztar _will_ do this, Charles."

"If that is what you wish to believe, I will not argue," Charles sighed his reply. If only he could shake Warren out of the hold Ztar had on him. "You are on vacation. I refuse to talk any more business with you right now. You are supposed to be enjoying yourself," he redirected with a grin.

Warren laughed. "You're right."

"I would guess you're spending time in the air and reading, am I right?" Charles asked with a knowing look.

"Yep! And I actually meditated yesterday, something I hadn't done in years. I had forgotten how good it can make you feel."

"Then by all means, you should continue. Good for the soul, as it's said."

Warren nodded, finishing the last of his coffee. "It's been equally good talking with you, Charles. I do miss you and the whole gang," Warren said with a wistful feeling.

"Then come home, my old friend. Soon. This is where you belong."

He smiled warmly at the elder man. Warren would not let Charles' relentless urgings to leave Ztar bother him today. "I will. Take care, and say hello to everyone for me."

"Enjoy the rest of your vacation and comm me anytime you want to talk."

As the screen went black, Warren felt that familiar homesickness. Sat'rey was nice, but it wasn't Earth. A compelling need to be in the sky filled Warren as he put the comlink away. Within moments, he was airborne. He expanded his wings and senses to this alien world he'd come to know, but still didn't feel right on an elemental level. His body knew, as did his soul, this wasn't home.

The balance of the day Warren spent doing whatever he felt like at the moment, whether it was reading, sleeping, flying, or walking, and the simple freedom to be able to do so felt luxurious and restful. As the day came to close, he watched the setting sun from the air as the colors intensified and then ebbed in a picture perfect mountain day's end. After dinner, he sat by the fire reading _Shards_ and sipping Dison and a sense of peace overpowered him in such intensity it was almost foreign to his existence. He resisted sleep, not wanting his time in the mountains to end, and when he finally went to bed, he slept like the dead.

The next morning, he commed Ztar and left a message after he'd checked with the cabin owners. He was staying a third day. It was the right decision. One more day and Warren felt he would be more ready to return to the palace. "Remember, tomorrow is your monthly checkup with Vozeipar'de. Get scanned for the nannites!" he added to the end of the message with a smirk. Warren would eventually win on the issue.

Day three was spent much as day two had and it was indeed blissful.

### --- ###

The Emperor looked forward to their talks more each time. Sometimes they were brief, sometimes quite lengthy. They discussed the trivial and the important. He just ended yet another comm and leaned back into his office chair. Jharda pointed out she still felt out of touch even after Ztar relented and allowed her to resume some of her duties. While her physician said Jharda was sufficiently healed, Ztar continued to rein her in. She still refused to participate in the emotional therapy. That did not surprise him, but he had held out hope she would eventually see the wisdom.

With each comm, Ztar's worry grew. There was quiet desperation in her voice and manner. The signs were there that the emotional trauma remained a festering wound. He could almost hear the silent cry to be so buried in work that whatever was gnawing at her edges would be blocked out.

On the outside, Jharda was her old self again. Strong, assured, and ready to take on whatever the universe threw at her. Ztar knew better. Maybe her staff couldn't see past the façade, but he could. It was the subtle flicker in her eyes, the way she held her head, the undertones of the voice.

He had offered twice now to go see her, but she politely declined. "You have more important matters to attend to than me," she said firmly. "If you'd allow me to return to my duties full-time, you'd not be seeing whatever it is you think you're seeing. I need to be working, my Emperor. Let me do that!" she had implored at his most recent offer.

Ztar almost had. The worry had stopped him that if Jharda didn't deal now with the feelings she was suppressing the healing may never be complete. She needed to mend mentally. Forcing her to remain on partial duty until she accepted that was all he could do short of ordering her to see the therapist. Ztar didn't want to do that. Likely, it would gain nothing as Jharda needed to want the help for it to be effective. If she merely did her time what would be gained? No, Jharda needed to take the step in free will and she'd never do so if she returned fully to the whirlwind life as Head of Planetary Relations.

How to convince the headstrong Jharda Myrundra to seek that help? 'Damn, the woman can be stubborn!' he riled at his inability to persuade her. He'd keep trying for her sake.

### --- ###

It was a question of propriety. Warren really wanted to ask Merryth to lunch or even dinner, but he was royal court and she was palace staff, and not even high-ranking staff at that. He didn't care what people thought of him, but how others may react toward Merryth was another matter all together. He would not place his new friend into what would be a very awkward position. So Plan B it was.

Having finished _Shards_, he had an excellent excuse to comm her. Knowing she was off duty, he placed the call and hoped she'd answer. He didn't want to leave a message. Merryth's face popped up on the comm with her usual big smile. "Archangel, sir, is there something I can assist you with?"

Warren smiled broadly back. "In fact there is. I've finished the book and would like to discuss it. Do you like tanquer root tea?" He watched as several subtle reactions flickered across her face.

"I don't believe I've had that before, but I enjoy trying new things."

"Great! I think it's a bit chilly for a walk. Perhaps we could meet for tea and zante and discuss the book. I finally finished it." The hesitation in her reply didn't slip by Warren.

"Did you find the ending pleasing? Leaves many things unanswered, doesn't it? You really must read the next book. It's called _Bits and Pieces_. You can downlink it from the palace library." Merryth's heart was pounding. Perhaps her plan worked too well. Now what was she to do? Royal Court does not have tea with regular staff. It just isn't done. Certainly Archangel knew that.

She was rambling a bit, likely from the somewhat uncomfortable position he just put her in. "Moit'de has kindly offered a spot in his greenhouse office." The secluded room would keep them hidden from prying eyes.

The intrigue of a clandestine rendezvous _was_ tempting. Should she risk it? Was it worth the ramifications if they were caught? If Rja found out, her career at the palace was likely over. Still…"When?" she inquired hesitantly.

"Since you're off this afternoon, how about now?" He watched as she obviously contemplated the invitation. "Merryth, I'm aware of how this might appear to others. If it makes you too uncomfortable, we can wait for a warmer day and go for a walk instead," he offered the out.

Merryth weighed the pros and cons. So many thoughts raced through her mind, she was nearly dizzy. If this was simple friendship, not so much of a problem. Worst case, she'd be let go from service. If this was more, big problems. In no uncertain terms did she want to get on the wrong side of Emperor Ztar – that prospect was too frightening to even contemplate. Yet she felt drawn to Archangel and did want to pursue a friendship, even if that friendship stepped outside the bounds of what was proper. She'd be brave, but with a note of caution in her acceptance of the invitation.

"I would be delighted to have tea with you, sir. You honor me with the invitation and with the extension of friendship," she said politely with a warm smile and slight emphasis on 'friendship.'

"Then I'll see you at Moit'de's in a bit – I'll bring the tea and zante."

Fifteen minutes later, they were seated at the greenhouse meeting table with a pot of tea and zante set between them. Warren looked into the emerald green eyes and saw nervousness sprinkled with excitement. He smiled his best smile, which she quickly returned.

"Thank you again for coming, Merryth."

Without thinking, Merryth reached to fill their cups, but Archangel beat her to it. "I should be serving you," she protested.

"It's your afternoon off."

Merryth was mildly surprised. Most royal court would have waited for the staff member to pour regardless, she believed, but from everything she'd heard, Archangel was unlike most royal court. He had all the refinement of royalty, but none of its air of superiority. Then, too, he had risen to court through a very unconventional route.

'He's so incredibly handsome!' she allowed herself as she watched him pour. "Thank you, sir."

Warren chuckled. "The sir business has got to end. It makes me feel old." He toyed with asking her to call him Warren, but realized that if she made a slip to someone else and referred to him by his given name, she'd have some uncomfortable explaining to do. No, best to leave it at Archangel.

Merryth smiled and took a sip of tea. "As you command," she replied putting a twinkle in her eyes and watched the appreciative return look. "How did you like the ending of _Shards_?"

Warren sat back. "I think the author is a master of foreshadowing and the ending was filled with it. Now there are more questions than answers. There are several more books in the series?"

"Oh, yes. Each one better than the previous. With the first book having created the universe that Jxiar calls home, the author can focus more on Jxiar's adventures in the books that follow. The stories from this point just get more complex."

"The search for one's roots is compelling I'd think no matter who you are or where you're from. We all search for something in our lives at one point or another."

Merryth gestured her agreement. "Indeed! Our place in the universe or what purpose our life should fulfill."

"Jxiar is a completely believable character. He has faults like all of us, but the incident at Puplois showed him to have a noble spirit almost in spite of himself."

"He did go into that none too willingly, didn't he? But look what it gained him – a clue to his past."

Ah, there was Warren's opening. "Speaking of pasts, how did you come to work at the palace?" He leaned forward, admiring the delicate features of her face.

Merryth noted the smooth transition in topics. She'd go along. "Actually, I have to confess it was through connections." She left it at that, taking another sip of hot tea. If he wanted to know more, she'd let him ask.

She was making him work, but he'd play. "And those connections…anyone I know here?"

"I don't believe so. Friend of a friend of a friend situation."

Warren picked up a zante as it was becoming obvious Merryth would not before he did. "Don't make me work too hard, Merryth," he called her gently on her coyness. The subtle dance would end – it wasn't one he enjoyed for any length of time.

'Fun while it lasted,' she bemoaned silently, reaching for a zante. She was hungry despite her nervousness. "My father was friends with a man named Bhenra who owned a shop in one of Yaunra's market districts not too far from my family's business. Bhenra knew another shopkeeper who knows Sukja." Then it hit her – Atichi! The name in the inscription in the book, of course! "Rja was looking for staff at the time and my name came up. Not too long after that, I was here."

Warren raised his eyebrows. "That shopkeeper wasn't Atichi by chance?" he asked connecting the dots and taking a bite of the sweet biscuit.

"Yes!" She was surprised. "You know her?" she asked, plucking a zante from the plate.

"I do. Small world as they say. Do you know her as well?"

Merryth indicated no with a wave of her hand. "My father may, but I do not. Bhenra was the extent of my acquaintances in that line of friends. Sad story about Bhenra. Has Atichi ever mentioned him?" She took a bite of zante.

"No. What's the sad story?"

Swallowing quickly, she replied as old feelings of sadness crept in. "Just that when he died, his daughter disappeared and no one knows what happened to her. She left everything behind. The shop, belongings, everything."

"That seems very odd. Has anyone looked for her?"

"Yes, but as far as I know, they found few clues as to where she may have gone. I worry for her. Ettwanae and Bhenra were so close. It just doesn't fit. I think something very bad happened to her," Merryth said, her heart aching for her acquaintance once again.

"You and Ettwanae were good friends?" Warren asked, reading between the lines.

"I wouldn't say we were _good_ friends, but I liked her. We were as close as she'd allow. Ettwanae kept to herself." Then she laughed lightly. "My father used to say that she was an enigma. Very private and very much devoted to Bhenra. She wasn't his natural child, you see. She was the child of one of his relatives, but was left with him when she was very young. Bhenra raised her. He never had any children of his own, and she was everything to him."

"And then after he died, she just left?" Now it seemed all that more perplexing.

"Exactly. What could have happened to her, we all wanted to know. It still bothers me. I believe the only explanation is something very dire ensued, though what that could be, I haven't a clue. According to my father, Bhenra wasn't the sort to be involved in anything disreputable."

"Bhenra died of natural causes?"

"According to the authorities, yes. Planetary security examined his death very carefully once Ettwanae disappeared, but found nothing suspicious. I think they felt she'd somehow killed him and then ran."

"I hope your friend eventually returns or is found."

Merryth stared down at her tea. So many horrifying thoughts had gone through her mind over the past year about the fate of her acquaintance. The universe was home to some very bad people. "So do I."

Warren picked up on Merryth's distress. Perhaps a change in subject. "Tell me about your family."

Merryth was glad for the change in subject away from the worrisome. Over the next hour, they talked of family and friends and the paths life had taken them. Then Merryth explained she needed to return to her quarters as she was expecting a comm from her family.

When Warren left her at the door to the greenhouse, he smiled warmly. "Thank you, Merryth, for the company. I'll definitely be reading more of Jxiar's adventures and we can talk again perhaps."

"I would enjoy that," Merryth replied, reminding herself that things would go no further than friendship.

As Warren watched Merryth's lithe form walk off, he sighed. 'God, she's gorgeous.' Then he shook himself mentally. 'This goes nowhere, Worthington,' he told himself firmly. He liked Merryth and felt had they met in another time and place, things would progress toward something much more than friendship. 'Damn the whole situation.'

He would not dwell on what might have been. Ztar was too good a telepath to allow himself the luxury of imaginings. Perhaps before this got too complicated, he should drop it. 'Don't start down the proverbial slippery slope,' he warned himself. Warren headed back to the palace with regret.

### --- ###

The General was torn. A major break in the investigation led them to a possible Etagllot facility. Sometimes, you just get lucky and sometimes you make your own luck. In this case, Gtar-Cro felt it was the latter. His people had worked tirelessly to uncover any Etagllot activity. Now they had to move quickly before the elusive organization learned of MI's suspicions. And if this turned out to be a false lead, then at worst, they'd have to make public apologies and foot the bill for any damage. Gtar-Cro could live with that and Myrundra's department could assuage any public backlash.

He should tell the Emperor before the raid. In fact, Ztar had commanded that he be informed before any such actions. The strong-willed Turzent had hinted none too subtly that he wanted to be personally involved. That would be very unwise. If things went wrong, Ztar would be at risk. Where the Etagllot was concerned, Gtar-Cro did not take chances – they were much too cunning an enemy.

To make matters worse, Ztar's apparent desire to participate in any raids was emotion-based. Gtar-Cro was uncomfortable dealing with emotional issues – they tended to be illogical and messy. Ztar seemed to be letting his emotions rule on the point, something the driven Turzent had been amazingly disinclined to do through the years, even the first time they went after the illicit organization. This time it was different. Not only had an enemy they thought dead risen again, but they threatened someone the Emperor cared about. It was becoming steadily more obvious that where Archangel was concerned, Ztar lost his usual objectivity. Gtar-Cro's one and only reminder to Ztar to maintain perspective had not been well received.

The Head of Military Intelligence had a choice to make – obey his Emperor or not. If Gtar-Cro went forward with the raid without Ztar, he risked angering the powerful man and perhaps jeopardizing his trust. On the other hand, Gtar-Cro's highest priority was the protection of the Emperor, even if that meant Ztar didn't approve of his methods. He faced a classic no-win situation. Risk the Emperor's safety so he could watch, and perhaps participate – even worse, or protect the Emperor and risk his ire. By the gods, what should he do?

Then the General smiled. Perhaps he could fight fire with fire…

### --- ###

Warren sat, feet up, in their chambers with a very unhappy Emperor glaring down at him.

"How do you know about that?" Ztar looked at Archangel, narrowing his eyes.

"The General commed me. Said they had found an Etagllot hangout and that you wanted in on the raid."

"He was not authorized to share that with you!" he scowled, crossing his arms. Gtar-Cro had explaining to do, Ztar told himself.

"So you _were_ going to nose in on the action and not tell me." He moved his feet to the floor.

"You want to go?" That he'd not allow.

Warren stood up, grabbing his cup. "No, Ztar, I don't. Gtar-Cro and company will do just fine without you and me under foot."

"I _am_ going, whether you and Gtar-Cro feel it appropriate or not. I'm going to make sure no one escapes and the Etagllot pay for what they did."

"Don't be ridiculous," he said into the Emperor's face on his way toward the kitchen suspecting he'd need more of the calming tanquer root tea shortly. The discussion could quickly spiral into a full-blown argument. 'Rein it in, Worthington,' he cautioned himself.

"I'm not being ridiculous. Don't you want to see them captured? To look into their faces when they're put into restraints?" Ztar couldn't believe the human didn't feel as he did. Archangel was a warrior – he thought with certainty the man would understand.

Warren made sure to soften his voice, hoping to halt the escalating emotions. "Of course I want them captured, but you're letting your testosterone rule your head. You're _emperor_, for god's sake. You have more important things to do than play wild raider. Let Gtar-Cro handle it." Ztar was being irrational on this issue. He had people to do this sort of dirty work. Let them. He refilled his cup and turned back toward Ztar – the man looked no less upset than before Warren quieted his tone.

"Did he put you up to this?" The possibility that Gtar-Cro and Archangel were conspiring to change his mind was irksome at a minimum.

"No, he did not. Why? Did he try to talk you out of it as well?" It wasn't a lie, not really. Gtar-Cro had hinted heavily, but knowing whom they were dealing with, the General had not asked Warren outright to dissuade Ztar. And the inference was that Gtar-Cro had attempted to do likewise without success.

Ztar decided to tackle the issue of the General's involvement later. Right now, he had an argumentative companion to deal with. "You disappoint me. I thought you'd be ready to kick butt, as you like to say. Where's my feisty Archangel?" Ztar tried to quell his raising ire, but was losing the battle.

'Oh, that rubs the wrong way.' He frowned. "This feisty Archangel is using reason, something you seemed to have lost. What the hell do you think you'll do when you're there? Blast the bad guys into oblivion?"

"Perhaps…" Ztar couldn't help but smirk at the thought despite his irritation.

"You can't do that and you know it. There are laws to follow."

"Not if they are shooting at us."

"That's exactly the problem, Ztar. The bad guys will be shooting. Your ass it too important to risk on this harebrained idea." Harebrained was in English, but Ztar's embedded translator apparently got it close.

"Absurd?!" Ztar was ready to get quite angry. 'The decision is made. Why am I even arguing?' he questioned himself. "Just because you prefer to stand back and let others exact your revenge doesn't mean I must. I will be on that raid and I will do what I see fit while there. As you said, I am _emperor_ and that is my decision." First Gtar-Cro and now Archangel tried to dissuade him. How many battles had he fought in his day and they were concerned about him joining a facility raid where they'd be going in with overwhelming forces? Ludicrous!

"Then when you come back in a body bag, don't expect me to cry over your grave. Or over everything you've work for when it goes down the tubes. You're being reckless, stubborn, illogical…"

Ztar took a step forward with each insulting adjective and loomed over Archangel with his seven-foot frame, looking down. "You will not speak to your Emperor disrespectfully."

It was all he could go to keep his anger in check with the statement. The old Ztar was rearing his ugly head, putting Warren in his place. He looked up into the angry Turzent's face. "Fine! Go on your little vengeance mission. After all, going off half-cocked is what got you to the pinnacle of power, right _Emperor_?" Actually, the opposite was true. Warren hoped Ztar realized that.

The contradiction was not lost on Ztar and he momentarily reconsidered, but only for a moment. "I know what I'm doing."

"That's not what it looks like from down here," he said up into the imposing face. "But then, I'm just an imperial whore who's obviously overstepped his place!" Warren retorted with thick scorn. He shouldn't have said it, but Ztar hit a sore spot and the words came out before he could sensor them. 'Need a few moments to back away and calm down,' Warren told himself and he moved around Ztar to head toward the bathroom. Besides, nature was calling, which it sometimes does at awkward moments, particularly when you've consumed too much tea.

"By the gods, why do you call yourself that! That's _not_ what I said." Ztar followed Archangel toward the bathroom.

As Warren entered the bathroom, he spun around. Ztar was right at his heels. "You will not speak to your Emperor disrespectfully," he repeated cutting words. "What's that shit? I thought I was Imperial staff – royal court, equal to you and everyone else. Apparently, that's the case only when I'm agreeing with you. Heaven forbid should I argue with the almighty Emperor Ztar. Then I'm being disrespectful_._"

"That's not what I meant at all." A small voice in Ztar's mind he was committing the same old mistakes. The argument felt wrong on so many levels, but they were already in the thick of it.

'We're right back to where we were before he supposedly got it.' Warren fumed. 'Stay on the subject, though,' he decided, reining in as much as of his ire as he could. "You know what, Ztar? You go on your little revenge mission and make like the big, bad warrior. The rest of us will stay here and pick up the pieces when you're the morgue or hospital or an Etagllot research lab."

"That won't happen."

Warren gritted his teeth in frustration. "Fuck, Ztar, you're not invincible. Too many people are depending on you to be around. Let Gtar-Cro's people handle this, _please_! It's what they do every goddamn day."

"I'm going," Ztar declared, planting his feet and crossing his arms once again. It was his right, his duty, and his decision regardless of what anyone else believed. He would see to it that the raid was a success. And he wanted Hercjell. Period.

"God, you are so _obstinate_!" Warren had had enough and he closed the door in the Emperor's face. 'Fucking imbecile! No wonder Gtar-Cro couldn't talk any sense into him. Why did I even try?'

The sliding close of the door took Ztar by mild surprise. Had he won the argument? He made his way to the liquor cabinet for the Dison. He needed the soothing affects of that particular beverage. No telling what he was going to face when Archangel exited the bathroom.

Much to his chagrin, the spot for the Dison was empty. Ztar scanned inside of the cabinet, other shelves, opened the adjoining door – nothing. This was inexcusable. Sukja would never have allowed the Dison to run out. Ztar's ire instantly flared again at the minor annoyance.

When Warren exited the bathroom, Ztar wasn't there. 'Huh. Maybe the door in Ztar's face went too far.' He was in the mood for something stronger than tea. Moving to the kitchen, he grabbed the Dison off the counter where he'd set it along with a few other items he meant to put away earlier. After opening the new bottle and pouring himself a glass, he strolled over to the sitting area, plunked down on his favorite chair, and put his feet up on the stool. 'Wonder if he left to blow off steam?'

The argument was a backside – they had slipped into old patterns. 'Need to watch that,' he told himself. 'We both let ourselves get angry – not helpful.' He closed his eyes and calmed himself further.

Thoughts then turned to the planned raid. If Ztar was going to go through with participating, someone had to look out for him. The General's people would have their hands full without the added pressure of keeping Ztar out of harm's way. Maybe Warren should go, just to make sure Ztar didn't take any unnecessary chances or do something equally stupid. Just then the Turzent walked in with a bottle of what was obviously Dison. 'Must have missed the bottle on the counter.'

"I'm going with you," Warren announced firmly as Ztar headed for the kitchen.

"Where?"

"On your little revenge mission. Someone's got to watch your back," Warren explained taking a sip of the sweet, fiery liqueur.

That brought Ztar to an abrupt halt and he spun to face Archangel. "No, you are not," he commanded using his best emperor's tone. Revelations or not; equal or otherwise; he'd put down his imperial foot on that notion. The risks were too great.

"Like hell I'm not."

"What's in your glass? Is that Dison?" Ztar demanded changing the subject. Archangel was not going and he would discuss it no further.

Warren sighed loudly. "Yes, it's Dison. What's in your hand?"

"Dison. I had to go down to Sukja's for a bottle. There's none in the cabinet." Walking to the kitchen, he banged the bottle down sharply. He was letting his anger get the best of him all over again and really didn't care. In fact, the orneriness felt good in an odd way.

"For God's sake, Ztar, it was sitting right there on the counter."

"Sukja would never have-"

"Don't even go there…" Warren warned, then caught himself and abruptly shifted the conversation back to the topic Ztar had obviously distracted them from. "What time is the shuttle leaving for the Mi-Lartui?"

Ztar yanked open the cabinet, grabbed a very large glass not intended for Dison, and poured it full. "You're not going. That is my command."

Warren rolled his eyes. "First you tell me I disappoint you for not wanting to go. Now when I decide to go, you forbid it. You're contradicting yourself."

Ztar stood in the kitchen eyeing Archangel. "No, I am not. Saying you should _want_ to go and my allowing it are two entire differently things."

Bristling all over again at 'allowing,' it took every ounce of his will not to react. "Stop me," Warren challenged instead.

"I'll have you thrown in the brig if I must."

"Why don't you want me to go?" Warren asked, keeping his voice even.

"It's too dangerous. I almost lost you twice before and I won't risk it." Ztar took a deep gulp of the sipping liqueur.

"If it's not too dangerous for you, how can it be too dangerous for me?"

"Because I say it is," Ztar said taking another long draw of Dison. He was done arguing. He was emperor and his commands would be obeyed.

That was the last straw. He had tried to be reasonable and civil to no avail. Warren stood calmly, walked over to his wardrobe, pulled out his nightwear and a few other necessities. Then he strode casually into the bathroom, grabbed up a couple items and headed for the chamber door, catching a very odd expression on Ztar's face.

"Where are you going?" he demanded more than asked. It was obvious, but Ztar wanted an answer anyway.

"To my own chambers."

"Why this time?" Another demand/question. 'Does it always have to come to this? By the gods, he uses the bed as a weapon!'

Warren sighed wearily. "You are not treating me as an adult who can make my own decisions and choose my own risks. For now, I'm done arguing."

It was a sucker-punch, but it may be the only way to get through the Turzent's thick head. Warren was beginning to understand why woman through the eons felt the need to do exactly what he was. Hit 'em where it hurts most and hopefully they'll see the light.

'Damn the gods!' But Ztar could hold out. He was right on this issue. He would not risk losing Archangel again – he couldn't bear it. He'd let Archangel go to his private chambers. Tomorrow Ztar would head out for the Etagllot raid with Gtar-Cro. Hopefully by the time he returned, Archangel would realize Ztar only had his welfare at heart.

As Warren walked back to his chambers, a plan began to take shape. There was more than one way to approach most problems. If a frontal assault doesn't work, then a more indirect tactic may be successful.

It was a long, lonely night for Ztar. He kept reaching over to the empty spot in the bed. 'Just a couple nights,' he told himself. 'Suck it up, as Archangel would say.'

Warren, on the other hand, checked a few things on his PI, made a couple comm calls, then dismissed the whole aggravating evening with Ztar and had a wonderful night's slumber.

###

The next morning, Warren flew down to where Ztar's shuttle waited to take the Emperor to the Mi-Lartui to rendezvous with Gtar-Cro's strike force near some planet called Hydeera. He made sure he got there before Ztar.

"Good morning, Archangel," pilot Wheichen welcomed. "I didn't realize you were joining us."

"Last minute change of plans," he said, ducking into the shuttle. He took a seat and waited. Several minutes later, he heard the pilot and co-pilot call their welcomes to the Emperor.

As soon as Ztar stepped into the shuttle, he spotted Archangel. 'And he says I'm obstinate!' Ztar gritted his teeth. "You are not going."

"I am."

Ztar moved further inside and stood in a very Emperor-like pose, arms crossed in front of his broad chest looking down at the seated human. "I forbid it."

"If you're going, I'm going," Warren countered trying to look very much like he was permanently attached to the seat.

"Then we're at a stalemate."

"Indeed." Warren gave Ztar his best mischievous grin.

The grin didn't settle right and Ztar's suspicions rose. "I'm Emperor. My word is law."

"Not so much any more under the new constitution," Warren pointed out shaking his head. "There's a little law that guarantees freedom of movement for all citizens."

"I'll have Lar put you in the brig."

"On what charges?" Warren demanded just as the pilot started into the shuttle. The man's eyes grew wide and he quickly turned around.

The co-pilot looked at his friend inquisitively with the quick retreat. "Lovers' spat, I think," the pilot informed quietly with a snigger.

"Insubordination."

"I'm not in the military."

"Reckless endangerment." Ztar was reaching.

"That's not against the law."

"It is if you endanger me," he retorted with an exasperated huff.

"I'm going because you're endangering yourself." Warren cocked his head. "Perhaps you're suffering from temporary insanity!" he exclaimed in feigned revelation. "I should call Vozeipar'de and have your head examined."

"You're _not_ going."

Warren ignored the command. "We're ready, Wheichen, whenever you are!" Warren called loudly to the two men who were milling around the open hatch, likely trying to listen in on the fun.

The pilot walked up the ramp.

"We are _not_ leaving until Archangel exits this shuttle!" Ztar snapped at the pilot who then backed out slowly.

"Sorry, no can do," Warren declared leaning back and folding his arms across his own chest, mirroring Ztar's pose.

Ztar had one last weapon up his sleeve. "I'll render you unconscious with a telepathic burst and have you carried out." He followed up the threat with a menacing glare.

Warren was unfazed by the threat. "You could. There'd be ramifications," he said lightly with a healthy dose of matter-of-factness. He uncrossed his arms and leaned forward.

Ztar's eyes narrowed at his companion. "Such as…"

"This shuttle may be forced to land by planetary security."

He couldn't fathom what Archangel was talking about. "_What_? Why?"

"As stolen."

"It's _my_ shuttle."

"This is not your shuttle. Yours developed mechanical difficulties over night – very odd," he explained with an exaggerated perplexed expression and a shake of the head. "It's Sukja's."

Ztar definitely smelled a conspiracy. "Same thing."

"No-o-ot exactly." He drew out the word for emphasis; then flashed a diabolic smile. "You take this shuttle without his permission and, well, things tend to get a little mixed up. Shuttles are reported stolen...Lar's office is alerted...planetary security locks down Mi-Lartui...Wheichen is forced to land in the middle of nowhere - all very messy and confusing." He laid it on thick, complete with arm and hand gestures to drive home just how convoluted the situation would be. "These things take _time_ to sort out – you know how slow bureaucracy can be. Before you know it," he threw up his hands slightly and let them slap down on his thighs, "you've missed your rendezvous with Gtar-Cro."

Ztar edged toward his apparently devious companion. "You wouldn't dare…" he snarled.

Warren only smiled at the daggers in Ztar's eyes. Amazing what a couple evening comms and co-conspirators can cook up. They'd never act upon it, but if the bluff worked, it was worth the man's ire.

"Clock's ticking, Ztar," Warren reminded. Gtar-Cro told him in their comm that they had a very precise schedule to keep.

"Al-_right_! You can go!" Ztar's voice reverberated off the shuttle walls. "But you're not getting close to the Etagllot, understand?" Then Ztar muttered something under his breath that Warren couldn't quite make out, though it could have been a string of Turzent swear words.

"Wheichen! We're leaving _now_!" The Emperor bellowed as he moved toward a seat across from Archangel. 'Of all the underhanded, scheming antics,' he projected to the human. The smug feeling emanating from Archangel was like salt in a wound.

Two obviously uncomfortable pilots slipped into the shuttle and their seats, exchanging glances. "Score one for the human," the pilot whispered to his co-pilot.

The ride to the Mi-Lartui was made in stone-cold silence.

### --- ###

_Join in on an Etagllot raid? What is our strong-willed Emperor thinking? His warrior blood is definitely running hot with dreams of vengeance. How will Gtar-Cro deal with it? Will they get their hands on Hercjell? All questions for next time. _

_And Ztar's attitude toward Warren – will that ever change? Two steps forward, one back as the old saying goes. Maybe one of these days…_


	12. Chapter 12

_Welcome back, everyone!_

_First, my eternal thanks to my faithful readers and in particular to Winchester-grl44, Focus SJS, CriticalAngel, and Louisestarfly for sharing your thoughts and reactions. I can't begin to tell you how much your words of encouragement mean to me when struggling through the final edits of a full-blown novel. Knowing I have people out there wanting to read more, keeps me going. If anyone else cares to join in and post your comments, please by all means, post away! _

_In this installment, look for a major about-face that leaves our winged hero shocked. The raid goes down with lots of weapons fire, an angry Emperor, and what I hope is a nail-biter chapter ending. And there's a twist intended to pique your curiosity that was foreshadowed earlier. More of that in the chapter endnotes. _

_Let's get to it!_

**Chapter 12**

The holographic building suspended above the conference table looked like any other building in the industrial center in the city of Mali on the planet Hydeera – nondescript, utilitarian, but well kept. Some equally utilitarian household product was manufactured there. What that was didn't matter – it was a front. Likely, the workers in the first half of the building had no clue as to what happened in the back half. That's where the Etagllot scientists were working on their latest project. If their intel was correct, that project made the General nervous. But then, any Etagllot project would make him nervous.

They sat in the ready room on General Gtar-Cro's ship parked in the Hydeera system. Across the table from the General sat a very determined Emperor. He wanted the Etagllot taken down and he'd settle for nothing less than complete success. An equally determined Emperor's companion sat at their ruler's side. It marked a rare occasion when the human took part in any meeting of Ztar's inner circle – only the second such occurrence. Obviously, Archangel had succeeded in his scheme to come along as Ztar's "babysitter" as the human had referred to it in a private comm to Gtar-Cro. His sole job would be to keep the Emperor out of harm's way. Gtar-Cro wasn't convinced that was going to be possible.

General Rehsaw was to Gtar-Cro's left. The raid was a joint operation – standard military providing the muscle and firepower, military intelligence the brains and finesse. Neither man had qualms about working together; they had done so successfully many times over the years.

The first half of the meeting was spent exchanging background information and mission generalities. The combined MI and regular military forces would hit the Etagllot facility hard and fast with everything they had. Two priorities governed the mission – capture as many Etagllot as possible, hopefully all, and rescue their victims unharmed. From intelligence reports, kidnapped people from several worlds, including Earth, were being used as test subjects in biotech and genetic experiments.

Of overriding concern was securing the facility in prevention of any facility self-destruct attempts by the organization. It wasn't their preferred modus operandi, but when given ample time to flee, such as on Ymoz, they sometimes leveled an entire facility. Under raid conditions, they typically targeted computer databanks in isolation as those could be quickly and easily destroyed while personnel made good their escape. Technicians in mission ops would scan continuously for any signs of energy build up or other indicators of self-destruct intentions. They'd also be watching for approaching ships intent that same purpose and/or to evac the scientists.

Decades of hiding and running made the Etagllot a very nimble organization. If one facility was breached, all facilities were relocated that any of their captured personnel were aware of, leaving only empty shells for others to find. That strategy made the Etagllot challenging to eradicate. You had to be very fast to make good on any gained intel.

Gtar-Cro talked of the eradication campaign of 15 years ago, mostly for Warren's benefit. During that campaign, Etagllot prisoners proved of limited value because of the need-to-know basis under which many of their members operated. Lesser personnel were also subjected to regular memory 'sanitizing' to ensure they remembered little useful information should they be captured or telepathically scanned. There was no reason to believe the organization had changed its mode of operation dramatically and, therefore, any Etagllot captured in this raid may not be as valuable as one would hope.

"How does that sanitizing work?" Warren asked.

"It's done with surgical precision by telepaths trained specifically for the task," Gtar-Cro began. "It's not a mindwipe, but a select erasure of details that could lead someone like us to Etagllot facilities or operations. For example, the sanitized person will remember he or she worked on a genetic experiment prior to their current assignment, but if that previous facility remains in operation, the memory of its location and the names of its lead researchers is gone."

Warren could not fathom anyone going along with such a procedure on a regular basis. "Why would anyone _agree_ to something like that?"

"People will do surprising things when offered the right incentives. The Etagllot organization offers much in the way of tangible rewards and scientific liberties usually not found elsewhere."

"Still…" Warren shook his head.

"The willing recruits are a unique bred, Archangel. But the Etagllot also recruit using other methods that I can share with you another time. For now, know that their use of memory sanitation severely hampers our efforts. But a_ny_ information gained adds to the overall intel database. I'll take whatever I can get," Gtar-Cro explained.

"And you still believe the head researcher from Ymoz is among those here?" The Emperor wanted verification again before moving to mission specifics.

"We do," the General answered with conviction.

Ztar turned his eyes to his other general. "Her capture is the primary objective."

"Yes, my Emperor. All team leaders are aware," Rehsaw confirmed. "Her capture would be a significant achievement. She will be one of the first they try to get out and extremely well protected."

"Speaking of well protected, what do we have on their facility defenses?" Warren asked. How he wished the X-men were here – they would make quick work of the rousting.

"They have a security force, guns for hire mixed with their own cultivated guards, most usually ex-military. Their goal will be to slow us down while the scientists escape. Likely, they have multiple escape routes, usually camouflaged. In an urban setting like this one, those routes could lead to any number of nearby buildings."

"So Etagllot could be popping up out of the ground like rabbits just about anywhere."

The general concept of Archangel's statement came through the translator. "Yes. Hence, our wide capture net," Rehsaw confirmed. "But our goal is to prevent as many as possible from escaping the facility in the first place – less potential collateral damage."

Gtar-Cro took over the conversation. "If typical, there will be fortified entrances between facility sections and the whole building monitored from a central location via cameras and sensors. The psychic dampeners and scan shields blind us to the layout of the building. However, we know most of the facility is below ground on two sublevels. Our inside operative provided detailed information for upper portion of the facility." Gtar-Cro punched a button on the embedded control panel and a new hologram popped up. "This is the layout of the building created from that intel."

Warren was immediately concerned. "Didn't you say the Etagllot use telepaths extensively? They'd pick out an infiltrator in no time. How can you trust this information?"

"We couldn't if the source knew he was source. We are using a blind operative," Rehsaw explained, answering ahead of Gtar-Cro.

Gtar-Cro picked it up from there. "Blind operatives are programmed to position themselves into whatever role is required within the organization being infiltrated, if they don't already hold that post. Then periodically, the operative is telepathically siphoned. They have no memory of the programming or memory siphons."

"Etagllot telepaths can't pick up any of that?" Warren questioned, still dubious.

"Unless they are highly skilled at deep probes, no. Few telepaths are of that caliber."

"Even I would have difficulty uncovering the work done by a highly skilled programmer," Ztar injected. "And we have the best."

"And these blind operatives are willing participants?" Warren feared he might hear people were being used without their consent.

Gtar-Cro met Warren's eyes and held them. "MI does not use unwitting operatives, Archangel. They are willing recruits, but have no recollection of that during the mission. The Etagllot's programmers, on the other hand, don't abide by such moral restrictions."

Warren almost shuddered at all the places that power could lead if abused. "That is a frightening scenario."

Gtar-Cro placed one hand palm down on the table. Ztar knew the body language meant things needed to move along after whatever point the General was about to make on the subject. "It is a tactic used with great discretion. It is also the greatest protection our operatives have – a solid cover," Gtar-Cro said with a tone that declared the subject closed.

The two generals then detailed the raid execution. At no time did they mention Ztar playing a role, a point not missed by the Emperor.

"I'm going down. I will be on one of the lead teams." Ztar announced in no uncertain terms.

Gtar-Cro and Rehsaw exchanged quick glances. This was exactly what they feared their Emperor would demand. Despite knowing Archangel hadn't succeeded in dissuading the man earlier, they held out hope they might still change his mind.

"My Emperor, with all respect, is that wise?" Rehsaw had earlier chosen to try first.

"That is my command," Ztar said simply, sounding very much the military leader.

Warren caught Rehsaw shift slightly in his chair. 'This is about to get interesting,' he ventured silently.

"Your tactical skills are best utilized from a more distant vantage point," the military general offered. "We could use your expertise to its greatest advantage in mission ops."

Ztar pushed his seat back. "The decision is made."

Gtar-Cro leaned toward the Emperor. "General Rehsaw speaks out of concern, my Emperor. Consider the risks. The Empire cannot afford to lose you."

Ztar looked like he considered standing for a moment, but did not. "The Empire cannot afford for us to fail in eradicating the Etagllot threat. I have abilities that will be useful on the ground."

"We have other telepaths to ensure no Etagllot slip through," Gtar-Cro pointed out.

Ztar then did stand, in obvious irritation. "You do, but none match my skill."

"And that skill can be used from a distance. Tell us again why you insist on going on the raid," Warren jumped in. Their chances of changing the Emperor's mind at last minute were slim to none. Ztar's whole demeanor said 'I'm Emperor and I will do as I damn well please.'

"Certain abilities are best used at close range. Empathic sensation from strangers is one. If the dampeners are not quickly disabled, I can use that ability to detect their people. Are any of your telepaths also empathic? Do you have _any_ empaths on this mission?" the Emperor demanded as he strode slowly around the table.

"Empathic abilities gain us little advantage," Rehsaw treaded delicately.

"You are wrong." Ztar's voice hinted of insult.

Warren looked quickly from Rehsaw to Gtar-Cro. He knew psychic dampeners did not block empathic ability for reasons he didn't understand. "Do you have any empaths here?" Warren asked. Gtar-Cro indicated 'no' with his hand.

"It is as I knew – my abilities will be another insurance no Etagllot escape. And if indeed Hercjell is down there, I and only I know her mental signature. She will not escape me. We waste time arguing. I will accompany the raid. I am not foolish enough to risk myself recklessly. I will go with your best team. And Archangel will be at my side, if he so desires." Ztar looked to Archangel expectantly.

'_What_?!' Warren did a silent double-take. It was a 180-degree switch from what Ztar said earlier. All he could manage was an affirmative nod in his shock.

"I will be as safe as can be managed," Ztar continued, halting across from his Generals. "The Etagllot prefer to run rather than fight. We should not encounter strong resistance until very close to our quarry. And if my generals have done their work well, our forces will quickly overpower whatever resistance we do encounter." Ztar had taken on the intense tone of the puissant ruler he was.

Warren watched the two military men. Gtar-Cro opened his mouth to speak, but Ztar cut him off.

"My decision is final." The voice and body language left no doubt the debate was over.

Warren remained stunned at Ztar's abrupt about face. Had their escape from Ymoz made an impact after all? Warren wasn't about to question Ztar at the moment – he wouldn't risk the man changing his mind. But the why burned intensely.

"Very well, my Emperor." Gtar-Cro acquiesced in a resigned tone, with a glance to Archangel. Now he had not one, but two court members in the line of fire. Not a good day!

Shuffling of team members and a slight change in tactics were ironed out to adjust for the involvement of the Emperor and Archangel. They were assigned to Rindhzart, a seasoned strike team leader. His was a collector team, which meant taking prisoners for later interrogation. More precisely, they'd seek and disable, moving as quickly as possible through the facility, leaving downed Etagllot in their wake for follow-up teams to haul away.

At the conclusion of the briefing, all that remained was to move the teams and resources into final position and issue the go command.

###

Archangel kept glancing at him with an odd expression as they strode to the shuttle bay on Gtar-Cro's ship. In 30 minutes, the assault teams would move in on the facility and they needed to get planetside quickly. He knew the human was on the verge of asking his question several times already, but had held his tongue, much to Ztar's surprise and mild amusement. One didn't need to be a telepath to know what that question was – what prompted Ztar to permit Archangel to go along?

Ztar had contemplated the issue twice since they left Sat'rey. It was one of the most difficult decisions he'd made where Archangel was concerned. Ymoz demonstrated Archangel's capabilities quite clearly. Nothing in the five years they'd been together, past telepathic probes included, had driven that home more keenly. Archangel was right – Ztar needed to let him make his own decisions. He wouldn't deny a Turzent warrior the opportunity and as much as it filled him with worry, Ztar decided to release his protective stranglehold of the human and respect the man enough to give him the choice. At least for the raid when Imperial troops would storm the facility in force.

But he would not offer an explanation. If Archangel wanted one, he'd have to ask. Actions say more than words and Ztar would let his decision be his voice. They were equal beings – Ztar needed to treat the human as such, not just say the words. He'd still worry and perhaps even regret the decision, but he had to do it for both their sakes. What better time to show Archangel that he was changing…had changed…than when danger was involved. Ztar's reward was the wild mix of emotions emanating from Archangel – shock, amazement, intense curiosity, and a blend of relief and satisfaction. It was a good day.

### --- ###

Assistant Researcher de'Ulurha was frustrated. Before him was a young female of Sat'reyan descent. Why his superiors were interested in the female, he did not know nor would they share that information. What he did know was she had nothing to do with their current research. His assignment was to examine her, report his findings, and then have the female interrogated. The scientist would do as ordered without questions – that was life as an Etagllot at his level. And if he ever wanted to move beyond that level, he needed to perform every assignment flawlessly. At that moment, things weren't going well.

The female was lying bound to a scan table and he was perplexed. The third scan readings told him the same thing the first two had. He had adjusted the settings and run a diagnostic on the equipment. Something wasn't right. The highly advanced scanner said that a nearly undetectable energy field surrounded the woman, but revealed nothing more. Everything else about the subject was ordinary – native Sat'rey, 19 standard years old, healthy. She had an unusually high resistance to sedatives, but that wasn't uncommon amongst those of her genetic heritage.

His subject was glaring at him with large black eyes, though he sensed the fear beneath the brave front. She struggled constantly and if she didn't settle down soon, he'd try more drugs. It wasn't that he thought she'd get loose, but it was irritating. He made a decision at that point. Having no luck figuring out the anomalous scan reading, he would move on to the interrogation stage of his assignment. Later, he'd see about using a different scanner and perhaps have more success.

Alerting the telepath that was assigned to their section, he had the guards move the subject from the examine lab to her assigned habitat room where the telepath would do his work. A surprised de'Ulurha was commed to that habitat room a short while later with instructions to bring the drugs necessary to induce cooperation. Why was the telepath having problems? Sat'reyans weren't known to have natural psychic blocks. Was the female a telepath?

Entering the room, he glanced at the interrogator and the guard. "Troubles?"

The telepath known simply as Jex frowned deeply. "Can't get a read on her. In fact, if I didn't see her sitting here, I wouldn't know she was. A total block. Never encountered anything quite like it!" he said with a hand gesture signaling bafflement.

de'Ulurha added the new drug packet to the med cuff on the subject's wrist, wondering about any connection to anomalous scan reading. The cuff would dispense the drug as appropriate, along with the strength limiting pharmaceuticals already being administered to the subject continuously when she arrived. All he had been told on that point was their subject was much stronger than she appeared and continue with the inhibitor therapy. "This should help. Give it about a minute to take hold," he told the telepath. "Call me if you need anything stronger."

"You can't do this! Let me go!" the female declared, straining against the bindings. "Who _are_ you people?"

###

No one acted like they had even heard her. She'd watched in dread as the new drug packet was attached. This couldn't be happening! She thought she had been so careful. Now they had her. What were they planning? The big question was exactly who 'they' were. She suspected these were the Shozen; the enemy her mother warned her about in the message recorded 16 years ago, but she could not confirm it. The Shozen were hunting her mother when she was left on Sat'rey at age three. If she was right, her future looked very bleak. Her body began to feel that odd, whizzing sensation. The new drug was trying to take hold and her body was fighting to stop it.

'Dear goddess, don't let this work!' she prayed. If they managed to learn her secrets…

### --- ###

Their disguised transport vehicle neared the rear entrance of the target building as if going about a routine delivery. At the go signal, Rindhzart's team jumped out of the cargo skimmer. Personnel assigned to crack open the building for the assault teams blasted through what turned out to be a fortified dock bay door – not surprising. A second, less impressive blast from the powerful phase cannon mounted inside their truck was all it took to finish the job. Rindhzart's team spilled into the opening, guns at the ready.

Ztar immediately felt the nothingness that indicated the presence of psychic dampeners. Until the teams assigned to cut main and backup power did their work, his telepathy would be useless. Just as everyone got inside the building's cargo area, the lights cut out, then immediately came back on, emergency power obviously kicking in.

Warren heard yelling and the distinct sound of running feet. He was a little surprised that no sirens went off, but then Etagllot security probably had the whole place under constant surveillance and would sound the alarm more quietly.

### --- ###

In the small habitat room furnished only with a cot, chair, sink, and toilet/shower corner, the young woman sat facing her interrogator, hands bound tightly in front of her. The interrogation had been underway for some time with few results. He had to resort to using a persuader device, which he had clamped around a forearm, when drugs had failed to elicit cooperation. The interrogator eyed his difficult assignment. Something was not right. She looked surprising well for someone who had been kidnapped, pumped full of drugs, subjected to multiple deep scans, and now tortured in an attempt to gain the information that the scans, a telepath, and drugs had failed to elicit.

The pain that again shot through her body was fierce and she squeezed her eyes tight and curled in the chair against the restraints as she cried out. It was like fire was crawling up every nerve in her body. How much more could she take and not reveal her secrets? Thank the goddess they hadn't figured out her implanted image inducer, but they knew something wasn't right.

"All you need to tell us is what the scanners are seeing. Then the pain stops," the man said with a sadistic grin. "Is that so difficult?"

Eyes filled with defiance and her body drenched in sweat, she stared up at the male. "You can ask the same questions until I'm dead in this chair and the answer won't change. I don't know what you're taking about!" The words were brave, but all she wanted was for the pain to stop. She was reaching the end of her endurance.

"Sadly, my scanner says you're not being truthful."

"Your scanner lies just like the other scanner. You should ask for better equipment."

Her nerves screamed under the assault that followed and this time she couldn't help but scream. 'Goddess help me!' she prayed as her body nearly convulsed.

The lights suddenly went out, only to come back on almost instantly. The telepathic interrogator glanced over at the guard who jerked to alertness.

"We've got a security breach," the telepath announced.

The other man nodded. "Just got the word, too. We need to move." The guard quickly activated the room door as the interrogator turned off the pain inducer.

She took shaky gulps of air as the pain dissipated. Through the open door, she could see and hear people running and shouting. Obviously, the breach was serious.

"Evacuate now! Test subjects as well," a man yelled from somewhere down the hall.

### --- ###

They moved rapidly through the bay cargo. One of their team phase-stunned a man and woman trying to slip out behind them through the blast hole. Rindhzart advanced toward the door they knew led to the main facility. Beyond the door was a hallway leading to several areas of the first level.

Their intel said Hercjell's labs were on the next level down. That's where they were headed. A single portable cannon blast blew off the door to the corridor beyond, sending it flying several yards down the corridor. They charged to the pre-selected stairwell a short distance away. There they encountered a small group of people fleeing the scene up the steps. Falling with grunts and moans as stunned, the team left the unconscious bodies for the mop-up crews.

Using typical storming tactics, they cautiously but quickly descended to level two. So far, no armed resistance, but Rehsaw and Gtar-Cro predicted little at first. The outer fringes would not house assets of significant worth. Those would be deeper inside the facility. The Etagllot's first priority would be escape of their valuable researchers. The farther they penetrated the more resistance they'd face as Etagllot security would attempt to hold them off, giving the scientists time to slip away.

Exiting the stairwell, they entered the hallway and headed left as planned. After stunning a couple more strays, they came upon the first high-security entrance. Warren recalled that their schematics intel pretty much ended beyond that gateway. Gtar-Cro had explained their blind operative, a low-ranking telepath, did not have security clearance beyond this point and his telepathic signature was blocked everywhere his security did not allow him to wander. He could provide only knowledge gleaned from others who occasionally emerged from the high security lower levels.

Another assault team came running up the hall from behind them having breached the facility at different entry point. Each team had their assigned routes and only a quick nod passed between leaders as the other team continued down a side corridor. Rindhzart's squad faced the fortified double-door. It obviously guarded something important and looked built to withstand a full-on cannon blast.

"I sense many people beyond that door," Ztar informed Rindhzart, who nodded acknowledgment. "From the feelings I'm picking up, there are likely armed guards waiting for us."

'This could be our first resistance.' Warren braced for battle, reminding himself his first priority was protecting the Emperor.

### --- ###

Her interrogator swore in three languages as he found a place on his person to tuck the phase weapon the guard handed him.

"What is happening?" she asked knowing it was wasted breath. No one bothered to respond as the guard fumbled with the restraints, yanked her to her feet, and hurriedly pushed her out into the hall behind the telepath. She resisted as well as she could, but with little to show for the effort.

"Keep that up and you get stunned," the guard said gruffly, jerking her with an iron grip around her upper arm.

### --- ###

Rindhzart turned to the female officer carrying the scanning equipment. "Shields and dampeners still active?" he asked. The female nodded affirmatively. Rindhzart was not happy with the news.

The two squad members carrying portable phase cannons aimed in unison at the double-door and fired, the backlash nearly kicking them off their feet. As the barrier gave way and they charged through taking advantage the blast effect to cover them for a precious two seconds. Two Etagllot guards were quickly overwhelmed and fell unconscious on the floor. Its two-shot wallop spent, one of the cannons was discarded on the floor.

"I sense no one else in close proximity," Ztar told the team. "But I sense many fleeing ahead of us."

Scanners blocked and psychic dampeners still on line, their team would be running blind from that point forward, except for Ztar's empathic senses.

'What the hell is taking so long?' Warren wondered about the blocks and dampeners.

Suddenly, the lights winked out again and in a couple seconds barely-there emergency lighting kicked in.

"Scanners?" their squad leader demanded immediately from the female carrying the scanner.

"Still blocked. Psy-damps operational as well."

"Damn Odiryn!" their Alcab leader swore. "Must be on independent power," the man surmised, lowering his faceplate. "Let's move!"

"Who's Odiryn?" Warren leaned toward Ztar.

"An Alcab god of luck. Apparently, not on our side as yet," the Emperor replied quietly as they began to move again.

"Know any good sacrificial offerings?" Warren quipped. Warren's night vision kicked in and he saw their team had lowered face shields that he knew incorporated infrared capabilities. Unfortunately, Ztar was not so equipped since the Emperor had decided he'd crashed the party without bothering with such trivial matters as combat gear. The only piece of equipment he agreed to was upper body armor. Unfortunately, they didn't make body armor with openings for wings, so Warren worn a makeshift chestplate only.

"How's your night vision?" Warren asked the Turzent, staying close to the man. He actually had no idea how good Ztar's vision was in darkness.

"Don't ask," came the gruff reply. "And don't say I told you so!" Ztar warned with his next breath. Turzent's weren't known for their night sight. It wasn't bad, just nothing remarkable.

"Who _me_? I'd _never_ do such a thing to my Emperor," Warren put as much bewildered surprise as he could into his voice. If Ztar looked, which he didn't, he'd have spied a devilish smirk.

"I'll be your eyes then," he offered. "Shall we hold hands?" Warren asked sweetly.

"Archangel…" the voice was nearly a growl.

Then Ztar slowed as they neared a T-intersection. "Targets approaching," Ztar said just loud enough to be heard by their leader. Maybe Ztar had been right. His empathic senses were proving valuable, Warren conceded.

Sounds of sporadic phase weapon fire echoed distantly. They edged cautiously forward.

"Right or left?" Rindhzart whispered.

"Left," Ztar informed.

His back to the wall, Rindhzart risked a peek around the corner. Instantly, the darkness was sliced with an orange-tinged phase beam, impacting the opposite wall at end of the corridor with a sharp shringing. The squad leader ducked back.

Rindhzart hand-signaled his team members. It was apparent they were going to lay down cover fire while a couple members advanced. Warren quickly approached their leader. "I can fly a lot faster than any of you can run. Why don't I take point? They won't expect an aerial attack." In the dim light, Warren saw Rindhzart's scowl even through his faceplate. "Besides, if I get hit, I heal quickly – _very_ quickly," he added to sweeten the pot.

The leader looked to Ztar. "Emperor, it's your call," Rindhzart deferred, very obviously not wanting to place member of court into harm's way, yet finding good strategy in Warren's offer.

"I don't like the idea…" Ztar started, but Warren cut him off. No time for hesitation in the heat of battle!

"While we're talking, the bad guys are getting away. I'm going! Cover me." Warren jumped into the air and darted down the hall, phase weapon at the ready. Almost instantly, weapons fire sliced the darkness, but it was too low. Were their targets not equipped with night vision equipment? If not, things would be much easier. By the time his quarry realized their mistake, he was upon them. In one massive gulp of air with his wings, Warren braked hard and swung his legs around beneath him. The first gunman he downed by a two-footed slam to the face and the other with a nasty bash to the side of the head with the phase gun. Nope, no face shields on these two.

As he hovered above the fallen bodies, the rest of the team quickly made their way down the cleared corridor, checking doors and rooms as they went. The female carrying the high-tech scanning and surveillance gear was sticking by Ztar, apparently assigned babysitting duties in Warren's absence.

Getting Rindhzart's attention, Warren signaled his intent and then flew down to where the hall turned again and risked a hovering peek. Seeing nothing, he rounded the corner and continued in a blur down the hall. A slight movement caught his keen eyes at the far end of the corridor. Suddenly, the hall was ablaze with phasefire, this time aimed right at the right height. He dodged and darted, putting all his tight-space maneuvering skills to the test as beams hit the walls and ceiling and the air filled with shringing.

"Shit!" he yelled aloud, laying in a phase beam strafe. Too many to tackle himself. Performing a tight somersault maneuver, he retreated back toward his team.

### --- ###

Legs shaky from her ordeal, she apparently was not moving fast enough as they hurried down the corridor. "Move!" the guard ordered and yanked her into a near run. They stopped to join up with two other guards coming down an adjoining hall, also with bound captives in tow; one a female Alcab and what was a likely male of a species she didn't recognize.

"Any idea what's going on?" her escort asked the other guards as the expanded group began moving again. Just then the lights flickered out and subdued emergency lighting took its place.

"We've been breached by Imperial troops. Everyone's getting out however they can," one of the other guards said as they rounded another corner and neared a room with a large doorway that was wide open, bright light flowing out. One room still had full power. They stopped.

"Which exit?" One of the guards asked the people in front of a bank of camera monitors and control panels.

"Level one emergency exit two is still secure," was the stressed-filled replied. "Shuttles are standing by, but we don't know how long that route will be clear."

She watched the monitors as cameras followed various groups leading bound subjects like her out, others simply running unencumbered, and on some screens she saw people in military garb likely to be whoever breached the building. She overheard one of the people in the room give the order to destroy the main databanks since everything had been uploaded.

Then her keen eyesight saw a flash of movement on one screen that made her heart race even faster – a winged being flying down the hallway. Even with the night-vision image and the fast movements of the flier, she could see enough to know he looked like her as the cameras followed him. She dug her heels in as the guard pulled to get her to move. _Was it possible?_ Could she dare hope she was catching a glimpse of another of her kind? Then she saw him dodge phasefire and her heart jumped.

"Move!" the guard ordered sharply as he pulled hard and tightened his grip on her arm.

'No! I want to see more!' she screamed in her mind as her view of the screen was robbed by a wall. 'Please goddess, let that have been one of my people. Let at least one other of us be alive!' But that hope was filled with foreboding that he may be in as much danger as she. If only she wasn't pumped full of strength suppressing drugs, the only ones that seemed to have an effect on her!

### --- ###

With sound of nearby phasefire in the direction Archangel disappeared, Ztar's chest tightened. Was he hit? Refocusing empathically on the human, the connection was void of pain. He sighed. It was times like these when Ztar was thankful for the talent that as yet no one had developed technology to render inoperable.

"Targets!" Warren announced, rounding the corner in a flash above the heads of his team, as if they hadn't already figured that out.

The team turned the corner, heading toward the source of the weapons fire. Ztar was growing increasingly concerned. With each passing moment, the Etagllot could be slipping away unless other teams were having better success. At that moment, he felt the nothingness of the dampening field lift.

"Psy-damps off line!" the tech announced. "And there go the shields,"

Someone on their side was having luck anyway. Ztar immediately reached his mind out to Gtar-Cro's. 'General, have we gotten anyone important?'

'We believe so, my Emperor.'

'The one I want?'

The connection was suddenly not so positive. 'Not as yet that I know.'

Ztar swore and pulled away from Gtar-Cro to scan for the mental signature he burned into memory those weeks ago on Ymoz – Hercjell.

Warren landed behind Ztar, relieving the tech of her babysitting role. The man had that look telepaths get when busy elsewhere. Warren pulled him along to keep up with the team. Many running paces down the hall, Ztar "returned." He looked at Warren.

"Hercjell's not here!" he declared in hot anger.

"Not here or you can't detect her?" Warren asked Ztar.

Archangel made a good point as Ztar recalled the headgear he had been up against on Ymoz. "I can't find her," he snarled in frustration.

The team advanced to the opposite end of the corridor, again checking doors along the way, covering each other's backs. In one room, a couple of abandoned test subjects strapped to tables cried out for help, but left where they were for mop-up teams to free. Ztar focused on his telepathy and scanned continuously, sensing numerous minds – fleeing and chasing – but none of them the one he sought. They were at a T-section with a short hall when Ztar felt something familiar. He opened his mouth to yell…

Shr-ri-ing!! Phasefire exploded from the far end of their corridor sending team members diving into recessed doorways for cover as they returned fire. Warren pushed Ztar into the side hall with Rindhzart and two others using their bodies as shields. The man carrying the remaining cannon wasn't fast enough and took a blast in the back, sending him flying to the floor, weapon clanging and sliding down the corridor out of everyone's reach. He was dead before hitting the floor. A second soldier was grazed in the arm and yelped in pain as he escaped to the relative safety of a recessed doorway. Phasefire then erupted from the opposite direction. They were caught in crossfire.

Their leader swore under his breath as he quickly assessed their situation.

Warren looked down the corridor where they had taken refuge. Dead-end. "Rindhzart, I'll check the doors." The team leader gave a quick affirmative. Warren ran down the short corridor checking the two doors, hoping he might find an escape route, but both were locked and it would take more than his strength to break them down. The Etagllot apparently didn't believe in anything less than secure entrances. Warren sprinted back to his teammates to the sound of intense phasefire. "No go unless we blast through."

"Phase cannon's lying in the hall – no way to get to it. How'd they sneak up on us?" Rindhzart demanded, looking at Ztar.

"Headgear dampeners. I detected them, but too late!" Ztar seethed at his slow reaction; he hadn't been fast enough sounding the alarm. Now one of their team lay dead and a valuable weapon lost.

### --- ###

As they continued forward, other people joined them along the way, with and without captives. Suddenly, the guards halted the group in front of a blank wall. One placed her hand on that wall, the surface shimmered, and then the image flickered out revealing a door and control panel. Once the exit door opened, the group spilled through into a dimly lit tunnel. The prisoners were yanked, pushed, and nearly dragged through a maze of dark and cramped service passageways. Then up two flights of steps to another door. A quick palm to the control pad and the door slid opened. At that moment, the dampening field collapse.

'Ettwanae!' the voice rang in her mind.

'Volu!! Thank you, goddess!' She nearly cried in her joy as the familiar alien mind caressed hers.

She was pulled again hard as their group emerged into what appeared to be a cavernous, nearly empty building, their footfalls echoing off the walls. At the far end, two shuttles were waiting, hatches open, engines hot.

'I have been trying to find you!' The mental touch was filled with relief.

'Dampeners for sure and likely shields. Where are you – I need you now!'

'In orbit. I have your location. I will be there in 59 standard seconds.'

'Don't hold back, Volu. I'm not with friends.'

'Understood, Poda,' Volu replied using the term of endearment she had come to use for Ettwanae. In Ettwanae's native language, it meant special one. She was learning her native tongue with Volu's tutoring.

'Scan for bio-sigs similar to mine in my general location,' Ettwanae commanded as she was propelled toward the shuttles.

There was a pause and then the reply. 'Ettwanae, I am reading a second bio-sig nearly identical to yours!' the surprise coming through in Volu's voice.

'Don't lose him!' she pleaded as they neared the waiting crafts. She could see others inside through the open hatches. 'Hurry, Volu, I'll be inside a shuttle in another few seconds. Likely it will have dampeners.'

'My scanners show the shuttles are equipped with cloaking devices as well. I am 41 seconds away – stall if you can!'

### --- ###

Far above Hydeera on Gtar-Cro's command ship, one of the technicians operating the scanners suddenly raised a warning. "Sir! Something just appeared on scanners. Whatever it is, it's entering atmosphere with a current trajectory toward the facility and heading in fast! Forty-nine seconds out."

One of Gtar-Cro's tactical officers quickly approached the viewscreen at the tech's station. "What do you mean _something_ – a ship?"

"That's just it – the computer doesn't recognize the signature. Partially cloaked perhaps?"

That single word got Gtar-Cro's attention out of all the conversations taking place around him. Since the kidnapping on Gamas II, all military scanning equipment had been modified to no longer filter out the atmospheric phenomenon that the Etagllot had cloaked their shuttle as. "The Gamas II signature?" the General inquired moving quickly to the tech's station.

"No, but the sensors are picking up something they can't identify."

"ETA to the Etagllot facility?" the TO asked.

"Forty seconds, sir."

"It's traveling that fast in atmosphere?" Gtar-Cro asked in amazement, watching the scan screen readouts.

"Yes!"

"Alert our ground teams now and tell General Rehsaw to intercept! That could be an Etagllot ship," Gtar-Cro ordered as he reached out his mind to the Emperor hoping Ztar would pick up on the call. If an Etagllot ship was being sent in to destroy the facility…

### --- ###

They were pinned down with no easy escape. Their team would need to fight their way out unless reinforcements arrived quickly. Rindhzart commed command with their situation as he heard more phasefire from both ends of the cross corridor. They were trapped.

Just then Ztar picked up that Gtar-Cro wanted contact and he entered the General's mind. 'Emperor, we may have a possible Etagllot ship heading your way. ETA less than 35 seconds.'

Rindhzart turned toward Ztar. "Emperor, I got commed we may have an Etagllot ship closing in."

"Yes, Gtar-Cro informed me. They may use that for an escape or to destroy this facility."

Warren didn't like the sound of the second possibility. "So that ship could blast this facility to smithereens and here we sit."

Neither Ztar nor Rindhzart bothered replying. Whether the facility was destroyed or not depended on other people intercepting the ship. In the meantime, they had troubles much closer by.

As Rindhzart's squad was shooting from the doorways they had ducked into, he was concerned with the odd sound he was hearing. Sneaking a peek around the corner, he watched in dread as their weapons fire was deflected by some sort of shielding. Three of his people then concentrated their phasefire simultaneously. Still the enemy advanced. "What the…?!"

He pulled his head back as another shot came from the opposite direction. "Emperor, they're using some form of mobile force field. Personal shielding that strong? Ever hear of such a thing?"

A shudder ran through him. While his two top generals and their key staff knew of the advanced Etagllot shielding, it wasn't information shared with the assault teams. It had been a calculated risk to go ahead with the raid. They bet that the technology would not be employed in force by the Etagllot in the surprise raid. Their team lost.

"Unfortunately, I've seen it once before at another Etagllot facility. It is quite…robust," Ztar answered with dread. The fact that Ztar could not sense the second enemy squad meant they were also equipped with portable dampeners. They were safe from his psychic and bio-energy blasts. Just like on Ymoz.

"Damn!" Rindhzart swore. They were in a dire position and he had the Empire's ruler with him. 'Odiryn, if I ever needed you, it is now!' he prayed. He commed control declaring an all out emergency situation. He hoped someone with appropriate weaponry arrived in time, assuming the whole facility wasn't turned to a pile of rubble first.

### --- ###

Ettwanae yanked her arm in a quick movement, mustering every ounce of strength the drugs allowed her and perhaps then some. She broke free and ran like the devils of Jandur were at her heels. She heard the man she left behind swear very colorfully.

"We lift off in 10 seconds with or without you, Marnzos!" someone yelled as she heard running footsteps behind her. But Ettwanae was weak and drugged and she couldn't run as fast with her hands bound. She would not take to the air – the risk of exposure was too great. She just needed to delay a few more seconds. It was mere moments until the man caught her from behind by one arm and yanked her around so fast their bodies collided.

"Got you, you little bitch!"

She spat in his face and she was rewarded with a blow to the head. She let herself fall to the ground, kicking at her captor. "Let me go!"

"Marnzos, _now_!" came the stern command from the shuttle.

### --- ###

Far more than thirty seconds had come and gone, Ztar noted. Perhaps the ship was intercepted or it wasn't going to destroy the building. One problem perhaps dealt with, leaving the other coming down the corridor. Shields or no, Ztar would not let the Etagllot kill them that day. Ztar began powering up.

"What are you doing?" Warren asked, worried Ztar was about to do something really stupid.

"We need to be ready, Archangel," he said implying he was not about to do what he was about to do.

Warren eyed the Turzent. Ztar made it sound like he was only building his biofield as a precaution, but Warren didn't trust the former military officer. Ztar shimmered in the low light, making him look even more like a mirage. Then he did exactly what Warren feared.

### --- ###

"Sir, our ships cannot lock on the target," the bridge officer announced urgently to General Rehsaw.

"Can't lock? Our ships are where exactly?"

"It's faster than anything we've got, General. They are still dropping through atmosphere."

"Damnation! What's it doing now?" Rehsaw was close to having a meltdown. How could a ship get so close to the planet and elude their sensors until on the fringes of the atmosphere?

"If sensors are correct, it has destroyed a building and landed near the target zone."

"Taking on passengers – I'd put my life on it! Scan for bio-sigs heading to that ship."

"Scanners are blocked in the immediate vicinity; I'm picking up very little information."

"Get one of our ships down there now!" he yelled in frustration. If Hercjell was among those escaping on that ship, Ztar would not be pleased – not pleased at all.

### --- ###

The building began to shake violently around Ettwanae and all activity came to an abrupt halt. Loud sounds of things snapping, tearing, and breaking filled the air. Everyone watched in stunned fascination as the roof split into large pieces that flew off in multiple directions as if caught up in an invisible whirlwind. Then the walls of the building fell flat to the outside as if all their corners supports were suddenly cut. People began yelling and scattering in all directions. The man she'd been fighting raced toward the shuttle, apparently deciding to abandon his prisoner. A low roar filled the air and Ettwanae jumped up and grabbed the Alcab who had broken away from her guard in the chaos and was running pass.

"Stay with me, you'll be safe!" she yelled over the rising roar. Then she sprinted over to the man of unknown species who seemed frozen in place, staring up. "Come with me! We're being rescued!" she told him loudly and began pulling on his arm, nearly dragging the man toward the Alcab.

Phase weapon fire began crisscrossing what used to be a building. Glancing around quickly, Ettwanae spotted military troops closing in on their location. Their captors were returning fire and the trio was caught in the middle. "Goddess, no!"

'Do not worry Ettwanae,' came Volu's reassuring words in her mind as a shield bubble materialized around them.

The air took on a laden feel and a slight mirage-like shimmer filled the space in front and above them. One shuttle lifted a few feet off the ground and jerked to a stop with an odd thud against an unseen force. Then in surreal slow motion, the shuttles they had nearly been forced into crumpled like a paper boxes beneath an invisible foot. Ettwanae hoped no innocents had been on board.

Like a portal to another dimension, a suspended doorway dilated opened several feet in front of them.

"Hurry!" Ettwanae encouraged and the threesome jumped into the opening, the bubble shield staying with them.

### --- ###

In a move too quick for anyone to prevent, Ztar exposed himself in the hall, stretched out his arms in either direction, and let loose simultaneous energy blasts down opposite ends of the corridor. The cracking boom against the shields was nearly deafening in the enclosed space as it reverberated off the walls. Just as on Ymoz, the protected attackers were pushed back, but not felled.

Ztar cut loose with two more quick bursts, hoping against hope to have weakened the shielding, but was again thwarted. "Damn the gods!" the Turzent shouted. He was stripped of his weapons – bio-energy ineffective and telepathy blocked. He seethed with rage. He wanted the Etagllot – every last one of them that had dared intrude in his Empire. And he most eagerly wanted Hercjell and anyone else associated with Ymoz. Yet here they were, pinned down, and possibly facing death.

It took the Etagllot guards only moments to recover, then a barrage of weapons fire lit up the corridor from both ends as Ztar ducked back behind the corner. The enemy was so very close!

"Stay down!" Rindhzart ordered over his shoulder not caring that he was yelling at his monarch. 'Why was I the one to be chosen to have him along? Will my name go down in history as the Alcab who allowed our Emperor to be murdered? This can't be happening!'

"While we're trapped here, the Etagllot are getting away!" Ztar roared back, his eyes burning.

His team was returning fire with earnest in the face of the impenetrable shields knowing the direness of the situation. They would fight to the death to protect their Emperor – no discussion required or orders need be issued. Surrender was not an option. It was foolishness that Ztar was there at all. Emperor or not, former military notwithstanding, he had no business on the mission.

Rindhzart then heard a shot followed by the unmistakable sound of a death gasp as the enemy overran another of his team. A couple doorways more and he'd be facing enemy guns with no effective defense.

He'd had enough. "Trapped is what we are, Emperor! Some or all of my team is going to die in the next few seconds trying to protect you. You should not be here! What _are_ you doing here?!"

"No one else will die here – I won't allow that!" Ztar cried out in heartfelt pain of the truth. What _was_ he doing here? 'Stubborn, arrogant fool!' The valiant strike team and his beloved faced an enemy they may not be able to stop. He dug deep for every ounce of energy his body could conjure.

Warren knew instantly what Ztar was going to do, but before he could grab an arm, the energy field flared with incredible intensity, forcing Rindhzart and Warren to back away.

"Ztar, no!" Warren shouted as the determined Turzent stepped into the line of fire to let loose a powerful bio-blast fueled by anger and desperation that pushed back the advancing Etagllot security despite their shielding. Warren jumped into the hall to drag him back out of harm's way when something slammed into his side knocking him hard into the Turzent. It took a second for the pain to register. Grabbing Ztar's arms to remain upright, he sucked in air. That brought even more searing agony to his side, nearly forcing consciousness from him.

"_Archangel?!_" Time stopped for Ztar. He felt, heard, saw nothing but his beloved. The human's eyes grew wide and his face lost all color.

"Get them _down_!!" Rindhzart screamed to the nearest squad member. Archangel had taken the full brunt of a well-aimed phase blast.

### --- ###

'Volu, where's the bio-sig?' she immediately telepathed.

'The signature remains within the underground complex. He has been seriously injured, Ettwanae,' Volu explained within her mind as the door sealed shut behind the trio.

"No! We must get to him!" she yelled aloud, her two companions giving her a startled look. She ignored them.

'We must leave, Ettwanae.'

"This way," Ettwanae signaled to the Alcab and the mystery man as she ran down the short passageway toward the lift.

"But if he's one of my people, we need to save him!" she pleaded. To be so close to finding one of her kind only to be denied was a cruelty beyond words. Ettwanae felt the ever so slight sensation of the ship rising, her desperation rising with it. She must reach him.

'The number of Imperial ships and weaponry here is great. I will not risk you or myself at this time.'

Volu's calmness and seeming dismissal of how important the other was riled Ettwanae. Who was in charge here anyway? Her or Volu? She slammed her still bound hands on wall in anger. "Bridge!" she yelled.

'Ettwanae,' Volu's voice seemed hesitant. 'I believe the bio-sig to be in eminent danger. Scanners show armed sigs surrounding his location and they do not appear to be Imperial. The bio-sig is trapped.'

Ettwanae's chest tightened at the thought of losing the most promising connection yet to her past. "_Do_ something, Volu!"

### --- ###

It seemed like everyone around Warren moved in slow motion as he and Ztar were pulled back behind the temporary safety of the corridor corner. Then blackness swallowed him.

The smell of seared flesh filled Ztar's nostrils as he cradled Archangel in his arms, moving down the hall. The human had gone deathly still, his breathing shallow and ragged. "Heal, my Archangel, please!" Then Archangel's body stiffened and jerked in convulsions. It was not an unusual reaction from a serious phase weapon hit.

As their team continued firing meaninglessly at the advancing shielded guards, Ztar held onto his beloved. The convulsing ended as suddenly as it had begun. "Please…heal," he whispered, holding on gently, afraid to move the injured man.

'General, we need assistance right _now_!' Ztar sent the mental message, filling the telepathic link with desperate urgency.

'The team is close, Emperor.'

Phase weapons fire came from just beyond the corner as a sickening sound told them another of their team went down. 'They had better be _very_ close!'

Ztar couldn't hold Archangel and fire his blasts at the same time; the bio field would further injure the human. He kneeled to lay Archangel down when three Etagllot guards appeared at the end of the corridor, weapons instantly trained on them. He froze, his heart stopping.

'_General?!!'_

### --- ###

_My favorite chapter ending – a cliffhanger. Will rescue arrive in time? Hoping to continue posting more frequently now so perhaps the wait for answers won't be long in coming. That's the plan, anyway._

_As promised, here's a touch more on that twist – Ettwanae, Merryth's acquaintance that disappeared a year earlier. She is an original character I've been toying with for quite sometime; actually, before this trilogy was even a concept. There's a story brewing that I hope to pursue after "Circle Complete" is finished. The AU aspects of Warren and certain storylines in this trilogy dovetail into the Ettwanae story concept, unintentionally at first, but then the pieces began to fit together. To be honest, I don't yet know how everything will evolve, but the seeds are planted. I'll likely need a break after finishing this novel (at least that's how I feel now) before diving into another. Over a year of writing Sacrifice, then Esserru, and now this third book has been fun and fulfilling, but a little draining. _

_First though, must get through the current saga. Busy working on Chapter 13 and hope to post soon. Thanks for sticking with me, everyone. Until next chapter…_


	13. Chapter 13

_Well, I was pretty happy with this chapter as written so the final edits went quickly and I'm posting it right on the heels of Chapter 12. Hope it pleases you as well._

_The Etagllot raid concludes. With that action over, it leaves the emotional stuff, which I know several of you enjoy most. Fjai is back in the picture while Warren brings a bit of Christmas to the palace. An emotional curveball comes Ztar's way and his private life suddenly becomes very complicated. _

_Enjoy!_

**Chapter 13**

'A narrow-focus concussion beam will render everyone in the immediately vicinity unconscious,' Volu projected to Ettwanae as the lift platform rose above the floor of the second level to reveal a small bridge containing a single chair in front a compact cluster of controls. Everything had an organic look to it – rounded and almost soft. A stark contrast to other ships. A large holo-image filled the entire front of the bridge displaying the scene of a city quickly falling away.

"Do it, but don't hurt him!"

'He will be safe, Poda.'

### --- ###

He focused on the weapons pointed at him and Archangel. His empathic talent caught the overriding emotion radiating off the guards – the singularly chilling one that accompanies the decision to kill. Further injuring Archangel now a mote point – they were facing death down the barrel. He reached down to summon up his energy…

Then the world violently convulsed.

Bodies, weapons, anything not secured went flying in a shockwave of sound and invisible, punching force. His position around the corner from the direct line of the blast saved Ztar from the brunt of the concussive impact and he remained consciousness with effort. He fought against near debilitating pain and loud zinging in his head, ears, and body while everything spun and vibrated around him. Huddled over Archangel, he waited for the world to resettle.

### --- ###

Ettwanae held her breath.

'It is done. The threat has been neutralized. The bio-sig has not been further harmed. Imperial assault forces will secure that sector within moments.'

"Thank you, Volu," she said, sighing with huge relief.

'Ettwanae?'

"Yes?"

'The bio-sig is healing at a remarkable rate. Sound familiar?'

"It certainly does!"

### --- ###

"A concussion blast?! Where by the gods did that come from?" Gtar-Cro was stunned.

"It wasn't any of our people," the TO confirmed.

The scanner tech spoke up. "It came from the mystery ship, sirs. Sensors indicate a narrow-focus concussion blast inside some form of energy containment beam. It penetrated the building and released the concussion precisely at Rindhzart's location. I didn't know that kind of technology existed. Amazing!"

Gtar-Cro felt Ztar's presence in his mind and he sighed audibly.

'Thank you, General. Archangel and I are safe.' The mental voice was a bit shaky, but strong.

'I'd like to take credit, but it wasn't us. We have an anonymous benefactor.'

'What do you mean?'

'Let's discuss it once you are back aboard my ship.'

More of their troops had swept in. Lights suddenly flickered to life, nearly blinding Ztar with their brightness. Moans and shouted orders rang through the halls, but Ztar paid no attention. Archangel was his only focus. Once his eyes adjusted to the brightness, the extent of Archangel's injury became apparent. From the top of his right arm to thigh, horrible burns had destroyed flesh. There was no blood, all vessels having been cauterized by the phase beam. But new, pink flesh was growing at an astonishing pace, replacing dead and dying tissue. Ztar couldn't seem to pull his eyes away and watched the healing in fascination while Rehsaw's people fully secured the scene.

He refused to let anyone touch the human. Archangel needed to lie quietly – couldn't they see that? He commanded anyone that approached to stay back. Seeing the situation, Rindhzart walked over and knelt down.

"My Emperor, you are also injured," he said in a quiet voice. "We need to get you to the medics."

He couldn't feel whatever injuries the man referred to. "No. We do not move until Archangel is healed."

Rindhzart hand signaled two soldiers and they quickly approached. "This is your post until I give the order otherwise," he told them.

The soldiers stood in silent guard over their Emperor and his injured companion, weapons at the ready. It was obvious the human was healing at a speed they would not believe if they didn't see it for themselves.

### --- ###

Her two tag-alongs looked at her with a mix of concern and wariness. The mystery alien then made a throaty sound. "Who are ya, where we goin', and who the fuck have ya been talkin' to?" he demanded.

Ettwanae ignored the ungrateful demands and walked over to the storage compartment where she kept a couple small phase guns and pulled one out. She'd give the man some latitude given what he'd likely been through, but only so much. Adjusting the setting, she handed the weapon to the Alcab to carefully burn through Ettwanae's bindings. She yanked of the drug cuff and pain device before returning the favor.

"Ya didn't answer my questions!" the man snapped to her back, sounding even more perturbed.

She whirled around and looked him in the eyes. "I don't know we're going except as far away from where we just were as I can manage. And it's none of your concern who I'm talking to."

"This is the bridge, right? Where the hell's the captain? Who's flying the goddamn ship?" he demanded apparently unfazed by her reprimand.

Ettwanae seriously considered leaving the man in his bindings. Not only was he an obnoxious ingrate, but he made her uneasy. Perhaps bringing him on board was a mistake. She had nearly decided to sit down without freeing him when the Alcab raised her pointed eyebrows and looked at Ettwanae with a slight smile obviously intended to reassure, perhaps sensing Ettwanae's hesitancy.

"Thank you for providing a means of escape from our dilemma. You have our eternal gratitude. This has been quite an ordeal and we're all on edge from our experience. Once you've had a chance to determine our next course of action, we can discuss returning us to our worlds. I for one miss home. For now, perhaps we could gather ourselves and when calmer, assess our situation with more clarity and thoughtfulness." The Alcab's eyes flickered to the man at the last half of her statement.

The Alcab was right…and sensible…and thankful. They were likely all suffering from trauma and varying levels of shock. Ettwanae walked over to the male who shoved his bound hands out to her in a non-verbal demand. She nearly changed her mind, but then cut through the bindings. He also had another band around his wrist that was didn't appear to be either a drug cuff or pain inducer. Ettwanae carefully burned it off with the phase gun. "What's this one for?" she asked, but before the man answered, Volu came into her mind.

'Ettwanae, we are being pursued,' Volu announced. 'I am strengthening the cloaking field now that we are out of atmosphere. FTL in 45 standard seconds.'

"We're going to jump soon. You should sit down," Ettwanae warned. Some people were sensitive to the jump conversion if they weren't use to it, experiencing dizziness and sometimes nausea. As her two passengers sat down on the floor, she made her way to the command seat and sighed deeply as she settled in. It was designed for her or rather someone of her species. A narrow back that allowed her wings to drape freely to either side. However, with her image inducer in full effect, her passengers would never know the reason for the odd chair back.

Twisting around, she looked at the Alcab and the other. "I'm Ettwanae by the way. I will try to get you both home as soon as I can," she sighed quietly. Yet another issue to deal with in a life already filled to overflowing with issues. "What are your names?"

"I'm Gatebi and I live on Alcab." Then both she and Ettwanae looked to the male.

"Lanic. Earth," he said with an air of smugness. "Most people call me Flint."

Ettwanae felt the FTL engines come alive. "Well, Gatebi of Alcab and Flint of Earth, I'm glad we all made it out alive. Now we leave this place like durkas!"

Her passengers indicated agreement as they jumped to FTL. Ettwanae closed her eyes as the sensation of conversion from sublight to faster-than-light swept through her. She thought back to the few seconds she saw another winged being on the monitor screens. 'I will find you, someday, somehow,' she vowed as every cell in her body and mind knew without a doubt she had indeed seen a fellow Eshaaru.

### --- ###

"Sirs, we've lost the ship. It just disappeared from scanners."

"You mean it jumped?" the TO asked in clarification.

"No indication of FTL conversion. It simply disappeared."

"No anomalous signals – nothing?" Gtar-Cro pressed.

"No, General. Not so much as a ripple on sensors."

General Gtar-Cro swallowed hard. They may have just witnessed complete cloaking – something no one had supposedly yet developed. If the Etagllot had that kind of technology… But then again, whoever was in that ship had likely just saved the Emperor's life. That wasn't Etagllot behavior. Was that the intent of the concussion blast? Or was there another purpose to the last second save?

"I want every bit of scanner data we have on that ship sent to me in a report."

"Yes, sir," the tech acknowledged.

The General then turned his attention to more pressing matters planetside. They still faced a massive cleanup operation with many prisoners to debrief, bodies to deal with, and Etagllot victims to attend to. What surprised Gtar-Cro about the taking of this facility was that no Etagllot ship had been detected, if he assumed the mysterious ship had not been Etagllot, which his instincts told him it was not. The Etagllot always had an escape ship nearby. Why the change? Was this facility and its staff deemed disposable? If so, why? Something wasn't adding up. And if Hercjell had indeed been in the facility, it was becoming apparent she managed to slip away. Yet no shuttles had lifted off and they believed they'd found every facility escape hatch. So how?

### --- ###

Warren moaned as consciousness began to return. 'Pain!' White hot, searing, to the bone pain. He squeezed his eyes closed even tighter against the agony. He tried not to move, yet wanted to move to get away from it, but that was ridiculous – it was from coming from his own body. What happened? Then he remembered. "Ztar!" he called aloud, fearing for the man. His eyes shot open.

"I'm here. We're safe. You need to stay still." Ztar reassured with gentleness.

Warren looked up at Ztar. The face looked unharmed; full of concern, but unharmed. "You're not hurt?" Warren asked weakly, then grimaced against the pain that small effort caused.

"You should not speak. Be still."

Warren was only too happy to obey. Moving was not a good idea. Although with each moment that passed, the agony lessened ever so slightly. His body was whizzing like crazy, repairing whatever damage it had taken. Must have been a dozy of a weapons hit. Lots of whizzing meant lots of damage.

Then a frightening thought. "My wings?" Though there was no whizzing in his precious feathered appendages, that didn't mean feathers weren't destroyed below the sensitive membrane.

"Not even singed," Ztar reassured, brushing his hand through the golden hair. How close it had been to being a very different reply, Archangel needn't ever know.

With immense relief, he closed his eyes and listened to the sounds around him to focus on something other than the pain. He heard orders issued about cleanup operations, comm calls including one concerning his condition, footsteps both walking and running, the sound of shuffling weapons and equipment, moans, and commanding voices demanding information from what was likely their Etagllot attackers now captives. Ztar was stroking his hair and cooing to him through it all.

Time passed and Warren breathed easier as the pain eased to an intense ache. Now he wanted to move. "I want to get up," he said to the Emperor.

"No, you're not yet fully healed. A few more minutes." Ztar did not want to take any chances, even though the rebuilding of flesh appeared complete. He had concerns about deeper injuries that he couldn't see.

"I need to move, Ztar. Just a little. I'm going to sit up." Warren grimaced as eased himself into a sitting position with Ztar's help. Now he was sitting on the floor, Ztar's arm across his back as a brace. The world spun for a few seconds, then settled down and stayed where it belonged. Warren looked down at himself for the first time. His clothing was burned away on the right side from his shoulder to his waist and new, pink flesh exposed. He pulled the right wing forward. Ztar hadn't lied – unscathed. 'Yep, that was bad and way too close,' he said with a shudder.

"I'm sorry, Archangel," Ztar apologized as his companion surveyed his body. "We should not have been here. You were right – I was foolish to insist we come."

Warren met Ztar's look and then put a satisfied smirk on his face for added effect. "Told you so."

###

On the shuttle ride back to Gtar-Cro's cruiser, the realization of how close Ztar had come to perhaps getting himself killed sank in. Warren watched as the medic dressed the relatively minor phase burns Ztar received when Warren was hit. Ztar's stubbornness got the Emperor's edges scorched and did get Warren barbequed. Thank God, it wasn't more serious.

"Just in case you missed the fact you nearly got yourself kill, I'm reminding you. I know you wanted Hercjell bad, but no more wild raiders for you." Warren said firmly but quietly as the medic left knowing many ears were listening on the transport shuttle heading back to Gtar-Cro's ship.

Ztar sensed the concern and conviction in his companion. He didn't want to fight with Archangel, not after what had happened.

Warren eyed the Emperor suspiciously when he remained silent. "Just promise me no more running off guns blazing after the bad guys."

Ztar looked at the human and considered his reply. "I cannot make that promise, my Archangel. We are at war with the Etagllot. I am responsible for the safety of my Empire's people. I will do whatever is necessary to fulfill that responsibility."

Warren chose not to argue for the moment. "Thanks, though, for asking me to tag along despite how it turned out." He flashed an appreciative smile. He still wanted to know the reason for the man's change of mind, but did it really matter? Ztar's decision said it all – he had treated Warren as an equal.

Later aboard the Mi-Lartui on their journey back to Sat'rey, Warren reflected on Ztar's response to the promise request and decided to drop the issue entirely. 'Pick and chose your battles,' he coached himself. 'That isn't part of why you're here,' he concluded. Ztar's emotional healing was Warren's goal, not to change the heart of a lion into a lamb. And so, he'd never mentioned it again.

### --- ###

Ztar smoothed down the feather with a brush of his palm from the top of the arch to the level of the human's waist. He was helping Archangel preen, both men sitting cross-legged on the soft bed in their palace chambers, Ztar behind Archangel. It became a hit or miss ritual between them several months ago, dependent on Ztar's morning schedule. Archangel liked to repair the damaged feathers after his early morning flight. Unfortunately, no matter how careful they were, lying beneath Ztar during lovemaking was hard on the feathers and often caused many splits, so he felt it only right he help fix them. Besides, the Emperor enjoyed it. Ztar cherished each opportunity he had to participating in the grooming. It felt bonding and spoke to something deep within that was primal.

Lifting another feather in an area that Archangel could never reach, he rolled his fingers gently over the split to mend it as his companion had taught. The movement was automatic after many months of performing the task. With each lift, a slight shudder ran through the wing he knew Archangel could not suppress. Likewise, as much as Ztar tried to stifle his own reaction to those quivers, he couldn't suppress the gentle arousal any more than Archangel could the shiver. But he would not pursue the desire – Turzents maintained a cultural and psychological separation of cleansing rituals from sex that was rarely crossed. Likely, it was something from their distance past to ensure the health and thus survival of the species.

Archangel glanced around the other wing to catch Ztar's eyes. "What did you learn from Gtar-Cro?"

The human was asking about the Hydeera raid report. Ztar had chosen to return immediately to Sat'rey in the wake of their close call with death instead of participating in the usual debriefing immediately following the military operation. Gtar-Cro had commed him very early that morning to report

"Herjcell, if she had been there at all, escaped along with others. We captured no high-ranking Etagllot scientists. How that was accomplished he hasn't figured out, but Gtar-Cro suspects they may have actually evacuated before the raid."

Archangel turned sharply toward Ztar with that. "An informant?"

"Possibly. Or they discovered our blind operative. It explains much."

"Such as how we didn't capture nearly as many Etagllot as we should have. But why not clear out the entire facility? Why leave some behind?" Archangel asked, returning his focus to the flight feathers.

"All good questions that Gtar-Cro has yet to answer," Ztar finished another feather and it smoothed down, letting his hand move slowly over the wing. Archangel shivered. Ztar smiled.

"If Gtar-Cro has a spy in MI that is troubling, especially considering what he told me about blind operatives. What about the abductees? Anyone from Earth?"

Another feather lift. Another slight tremble. "Five from Earth. Those that could travel immediately are on their way back home. Two required medical attention."

"Damn Etagllot! I hope they burn in hell. Will they recover?"

"That appears to be the case, though Gtar-Cro didn't get into specifics on their medical condition."

"And what was the Etagllot working on?" The human had finished the second wing and twisted around to look at him. "Done back there?"

"Sadly, yes," Ztar sighed. Archangel grinned. "All the databanks were destroyed, but by the lab equipment, other evidence, and statements from abductees confirms the project was genetic in nature."

"Not surprising given mutants were involved," Archangel stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned back into Ztar, and the Emperor was all too happy to wrap an arm around his precious companion.

Ztar nodded. "Gtar-Cro asked me to review the reports on the Etagllot's suspected research projects with an eye toward a common denominator. I believe there is an ultimate goal all their projects are leading to."

"And that would be…"

Ztar lightly traced the edge of a wing with his fingertips from its top to as far as his reach extended. Archangel shivered.

"Stop that – it tickles," the human protested pushing his hand aside, but was not serious as a chuckle gave the man away.

"Oh, it does??" Ztar questioned mischievously. If he didn't have a liaison briefing in a short while…

Archangel gave him a quick elbow jab in the ribs. "What about ultimate goal?"

"Understand we've limited information and much of it from the Par-Sen, so it is all speculation, but the bits and pieces seem to form a picture. Gtar-Cro concurs – he came to the same conclusion. I need to review the reports again with a fresh perspective-"

"Ztar, you're rambling. What's the big plan?" Archangel sounded impatient.

"They are attempting to create a super-species," he replied succinctly.

Archangel sat up and turned around shaking his head. "Why is it people want to play god?"

"Or create gods? Or _be_ gods?"

"It comes down to one thing – power. Specifically, the power over others. I hope you and the General are wrong."

Ztar reached out and ran his fingers through the golden hair that was longer than he knew Archangel liked, but the human had let it grow for him, knowing how much Ztar loved it. The small concession meant much to Ztar. Longing began to fill him, but he pushed it down. Duty would call him soon to work. Until then, though, they could lounge in bed for a bit longer. Ztar edged back against the pillows and headboard, pulling Archangel toward him until the human was lying atop his lap, head resting on Ztar's chest.

"You don't want any breakfast?" his companion asked. They usually ate together before parting for the morning to attend to their various responsibilities.

"No, I'm not really hungry. I want to stay right here like this for a while yet."

Ztar began stroking a wing in long, smooth movements. He loved the feel of their silky stiffness and could caress the wings for hours. The feathers on the topside had a different feel than those on the underside; there they were softer and suppler. Archangel rewarded him by spreading the wing a little wider for a better position. The empathic link told Ztar Archangel enjoyed the stroking as much as he did. Calm and tranquil feelings flooded the connection and Ztar closed his eyes and let it take him away.

"You're gonna put me to sleep," the human whispered into Ztar's chest.

"This is so perfect," he whispered back, kissing the top of Archangel's head. "If only we could put time on hold." His throat tightened with the thought that one day Archangel would likely return to Earth. 'Don't think about that,' he told himself sternly. 'You're ruining the moment.' And with the force of his will, he pushed down the distressing thought and focused on the simply joy of cuddling his lover.

"My Emperor?" Archangel asked with tenderness.

"Yes, my Archangel?"

"Get scanned for the nannites."

Ztar groaned and ruffled his lover's hair.

### --- ###

Gtar-Cro's face filled the screen for the second time that morning. "I've received the analysis on our mystery ship."

"That took longer than I would have thought," Ztar complained.

"Agreed, but the readings were unusual enough the analysis team wanted to be certain before committing to a report."

"You have my rapt interest," Ztar shared as he leaned toward the screen.

"Directly to the point then. When our sensors registered the vessel, it was still partially cloaked, so the team states that all readings must be suspect – false readings are a possibility. With that said, they could find no ship in Imperial records that match the sensor readings."

"New technology from a known race? The Commonwealth or someone else?"

"If that ship is of Commonwealth design, they've made huge advancements. Not only in cloaking technology, but the ship's propulsion system is unlike anything we've seen."

"Shi'ar?"

"Not unless they've built a ship that breaks from their standard engine design."

"It could be of a race we've yet encountered. The fact that it used cloaking technology so advanced that it disappeared completely from our sensors could support that contention." Ztar mentally ran through several other possibilities.

"One point I find interesting is that once the ship began entering atmosphere, the cloak was incomplete."

"Cloaking fully effective only in space? Or do atmospheric shields interfere?"

"Or the energy requirements can't support both full cloak and full shields," Gtar-Cro furthered the raised questions with a gesture indicating lack of answers.

"Speculation could go in many directions, General, but it'd be just that – speculation. What else did they find?"

"If we speculate the ship went to FTL once it fully recloaked, then they were able to perform what our scientists believe impossible – cloak the initial FTL burst signature."

"But we don't know they went to FTL. Why bother if no one can track you?"

"Understood, but a possibility the team wanted to make certain we considered."

"If we ever learn the ship indeed jumped and that burst was fully cloaked, our scientists will need to rewrite their textbooks. On the other hand, their engines could be so vastly different for ours, there is no FTL jump burst." Ztar frowned briefly at all the possibilities coming to mind. "When it landed on Hydeera, do we have any data on who it took on?" Ztar changed the subject abruptly.

"No, our sensors were blocked."

"How detailed is the sensor data on the ship? Do we know its configuration? Shields? Hull material?"

"We have no readings on the chemical makeup of the hull. The general exterior profile we do have from what the sensors could detect." The General's face disappeared and an image of a ship popped up.

Ztar looked at the simulation with intrigue. "This doesn't look like any ship I've ever seen."

"The analysis team made the same point. For example, where is the engine pod?"

The image compiled from sensor readings and visuals showed a graceful, curving, almost sculpted craft, generally a unilateral triangle lying flat, rising higher in the center and tapering to two of the points, almost like sweeping fins or wings. The third point that trailed behind extended out with a long tip, almost like a tail. At the end of the tail was a flat, elongated oval attachment. The surface was smooth with no protrusions or anything to suggest windows, hatches, or other typical external appurtenances.

"General, if I had to put a description to it, I'd say this ship looks organic."

"You'll get no arguments from anyone on that, Emperor."

"And if the scale is accurate, it's a very small ship." Ztar leaned back in his chair. "Intriguing."

Gtar-Cro's image returned. "Very much so. I'll send the complete report to your PI. Unfortunately, sensor readings don't answer the big questions – who was this and why did they save you from the Etagllot?"

"And who did Etagllot have within their installation that this ship, as yet unknown to us, exposed itself to retrieve?"

"Many questions and no answers," the General summed up. "With the technology they possess, I pray they are not friends of the Etagllot."

Ztar's was almost awed by what they had learned and his curiosity was intense, but the ship was gone and little they could do to find it. "For now, we have other problems and challenges that are stretching our resources to the limit. We'll not pursue this matter further. However, that does not mean that if we learn of other sightings, I'll not change my mind. It would be good to express my gratitude to our anonymous benefactors."

The General nodded acknowledgement.

As Ztar ended the comm, his thoughts stayed with the who and the why of the last moment save from the Etagllot. If those on the mysterious craft had not interfered, the Etagllot may have succeeded in killing him, Archangel, and the remaining team members. 'The gods are definitely intervening,' he believed. But whether they were protecting him, Archangel, or someone else, only the gods knew.

### --- ###

It was rare that they ran into each other in their chambers mid-afternoon. Ztar's days were full with imperial business and Warren just didn't spend much time there during the day, preferring to spend the time outside or in his private chambers when working or relaxing between duties. He had come in search of an afternoon snack he kept in their shared chambers.

Even with performing most of Sukja's former personal attendant duties and managing palace staff, Warren felt he hadn't enough to do and he'd been meaning to talk with the Emperor about it. With the hubbub of the Etagllot raid now two weeks behind them, things were relatively quiet again, which for Warren usually equaled boredom. Warren didn't do well with boredom. At the same time, he didn't want to sink any deeper into this life knowing he'd be leaving at some point. Yet the need to stay busy was strong. Warren decided to postpone any discussions with Ztar on that issue for now. At that moment, he was content to listen to his favorite music on his iPod, earpieces firmly in place, and scrounge up a mid-afternoon snack.

"The Par-Sen meetings went well," Ztar announced moving toward his wardrobe immediately upon entering their chambers. The delegation had come again to discuss joining the Turzent Empire. Apparently, their cooperative operations to rid the Par-Sen system of the Etagllot were well received at the highest levels and they wished to continue exploring potential entry into the Turzent Empire. Archangel did not respond. Ztar noticed the earpieces. "I said," he began again only much louder, "the Par-Sen meetings went well."

Warren came to a stop on his way to the kitchen. "Good to hear," he replied, pulling the plugs from his ears.

"If we can deal with some objections on both sides, this may actually be possible." Ztar sounded pleased.

"You'll be laying the groundwork for future entrants under the new government – keep that in mind if you haven't already," Warren offered having been through numerous mergers with Worthington Industries. "In any merger, there is always a winner and a loser so to speak, no matter how much people insist that won't be the case. Just be certain you are driving the deal and not the Par-Sen, and that your new government isn't altered or somehow compromised. They came to you after all."

The Turzent looked at the human. Archangel spoke wisely. Those were some of Ztar's exact concerns. "You are correct. This is a difficult time for the Empire. I do not wish to risk or tamper with what we're are building. If the Par-Sen demand too much, they will be turned away."

Warren nodded. He had worried the Par-Sen would ask for changes in the new constitution to incorporate their own laws and form of government. This was not the time to be proposing revisions to the new imperiocratic government – it was too young and in many ways unstable and untested.

Ztar removed the formal tunic he had worn for the Par-Sen meeting, and then stripped out of the undertunic. Archangel had insights into mergers from his own business on Earth. Would he be a sound advisor for the potential Par-Sen entry? This was more a business transaction than anything Ztar had dealt with. And to be honest, this was new territory for most of his inner circle, except his legal branch. Perhaps he should consider bringing Archangel into the talks, or at least the debriefings.

He watched the human rummage through food storage obviously hungry yet again and it brought a smile to his face. The human was nearly always hungry and ate more food that Ztar did in two days. One of the things he found endearing about Archangel and it was a constant source for teasing. "Hungry?" he questioned with a chuckle.

"Hey!" Warren said over his shoulder. "I need to keep up my strength. Between managing staff and hand-holding our Emperor, I need lots of it," he kidded back and continued searching for what he knew was there somewhere – Ecanle bars; the high-energy food bars Procurement Officer de'Letnoir had introduced him to five years ago on the Mi-Lartui. 'Know they're here…'

Sudden longing filled the Emperor as he observed the graceful movements of the human, the way the wings moved with his body, the subtle rustling of feathers. The jeans Archangel wore accentuated his lithe form in all the right ways. He approached stealthy. Reaching his target, Ztar grabbed the object of his desire from behind, pulling him close with arms wrapped around the human. The sensual wings were pressed against his bare chest, the feeling propelled his arousal.

"Ztar, what the hell?" Warren asked, surprised by the unexpected grab. The Turzent buried his face down into his wings as Ztar literally lifted Warren off his feet.

"I want to bed my beautiful Archangel," Ztar murmured salaciously as he carried his companion toward the bed that sat waiting for them.

"It's the middle of the day!" Warren reminded, weakly attempting to break free.

With one arm, Ztar jerked the bed linens to one side while keeping Archangel in a tight embrace with the other. "You will not escape me," he feigned a warning, plopping Archangel down on the bed. "This is where you and I belong, middle of the day or middle of the night!" His desired was escalating quickly.

"Ztar, really – don't you have something you need to be doing? Meetings, debriefs, reports – _something_?" Warren asked not particularly in the mood for sex. He was hungry.

"No, all business for the day is done. We have the rest of the afternoon…" Ztar cooed extracting the music device and the earpiece wire from between them.

"Don't you dare rip off my t-shirt or jeans!" Warren's concern over his stomach was quickly replaced with fear his precious clothes from Earth were in mortal danger. He pressed his hands against Ztar's chest to hold him back.

Ztar leaned close over his companion despite the attempts to keep him at bay. "Then perhaps you should remove them," Ztar replied with a devilish smile.

"Can't you just wait until tonight?" Warren chided turning his face away from the Emperor's kiss.

"I'll want you then, too." Ztar was not going to be deterred, running his hands over the wings, up and down the lean body, then working his way toward the button and zipper of the jeans. The empathic connection told him Archangel really wasn't _that_ resistant to an afternoon interlude.

Ztar's hands where everywhere and was nearly always the case, Warren's body defied his will and began to respond. 'Jesus, this is ridiculous!' he told himself. 'One of these days…' he thought, but it was probably in vain. The Turzent knew exactly what to do to get Warren going.

"Let me up so I can at least get my clothes off," he demanded while trying to sit up.

Ztar allowed Archangel to rise but he wouldn't let him out of the bed. "I'll help," he offered, pulling up on the t-shirt.

"Careful!" Warren warned, fearing the strong man would tear something.

Between the two of them, the t-shirt was removed. Ztar gently pushed Archangel flat once again and undoing the button and zipper, he pulled the jeans from the human and held them up. "See? In one piece!" he said with exaggerated pride.

"Thank god," Warren breathed easier now that his well-worn jeans were safe. He already had one pair ruined by the laundry staff in their misguided repair of the tears. He'd defend his remaining three pairs with his life!

Ztar leaned down very close to Archangel's lips. "Why do you care so much about torn pants?"

Warren looked into the smoldering brown eyes. "They are battle scars I'll have you know. It takes a long time to acquire those marks of honor."

Ztar shook his head. He'd never understand the attachment Archangel had to clothes that had obviously seen better days. Then he yanked off his own pants and dove into making love with his companion, all thoughts of mergers and old jeans forgotten.

The Emperor wanted to tussle a bit, needing some physical outlet having sat through a day and a half of meetings with the Par-Sen. He nudged that need into Archangel's mind, hoping the human would accommodate.

Warren felt the thought that was more of an emotion. Ztar wanted to play rough. This aspect of the Turzent's lovemaking preferences was creeping more often into their bedtime activities. Warren had never been into that sort of playacting. Nothing wrong with a little fantasy fulfillment in bed, it just wasn't Warren's first choice, but Ztar enjoyed it and he found himself going along.

Ztar pushed Archangel down tight into the soft mattress, pinning wrists atop wings, and came down hard on the full lips and pushed his way into the mouth. He probed deep and long, nearly robbing Archangel of the ability to breathe. He released one wrist to find that particular spot at the wing base. Archangel tried to push his arm away, but Ztar's strength prevented success. Finding the spot, he massaged just to the point of pain, using their empathic connection to guide him.

Archangel shuddered and moaned beneath him. He loved that feeling – like a captive creature trembling in his grasp. It ignited him and he began devouring his lover with his mouth, hands, fingertips, tongue. The Turzent wanted to feel every part of the human's body – feel Archangel tremble beneath him, to hear him moan in pleasure, to see him close his eyes in rapture at Ztar's touch.

Ztar was keeping his strength in check, yet every touch, probe, and caress danced on that fine line between pleasure and pain. Ztar wanted some resistance from Warren, but he was having a hard time accommodating as the skilled man above him worked his sexual magic. Warren half-heartedly pushed the hands away and turned away from the kissing, but was soon melting into the overwhelming sensations that Ztar educed. As the heat intensified, Warren was quickly building to climax and already wanted Ztar to complete the act, but the Turzent seemed to be in no particular hurry.

"I want you forever," he whispered in a husky, lust-filled voice into Archangel's hair. "Like this…just us. No empire. Nothing and no one else. I love you beyond love." Ztar meant it – every word. Archangel was so deeply embedded in his soul he could not image life without his companion.

Warren wrapped his arms around the man atop him. He nuzzled into the neck and grasped the thick, black-crimson hair with his hand and held tight, allowing himself to be swept away with the building heat. The words were on the tip of his tongue – they nearly came out – the ones Ztar's heart longed to hear. Instead, he whispered the other words Ztar loved. "Take me…now."

Ztar accommodated his Archangel's desire and was rewarded in the moans and sighs of sexual bliss. As he thrust in and out of his lover, he caressed and kissed until he was ready to release. And as was often the case, Archangel released at the same time, their bodies in delightful unison, somehow bound on a sexual/physical level.

As Ztar rested on one elbow looking at the human next to him afterward, he again marveled at the events that brought them to this point. Devine intervention was the only explanation as anything less would not have made it so.

"Tell me you'll stay. Tell me you won't ever leave," he said stroking the golden hair damp with sweat, trailing his fingers across the flushed cheek to Archangel's chin.

Warren gazed into Ztar's eyes that seemed even larger from the remnants of sex. What could he say? He still wanted to go home, yet some small part of him tugged at him to do otherwise. He dismissed it. "I'll stay until you don't need me anymore."

Ztar closed his eyes – it was too hard to hear. He wanted to deny it. "Don't say that. I'll always need you." He nearly choked thinking of Archangel being gone.

"Don't think about it, Ztar," Warren said drawing his fingers across Ztar's chin in a mirrored gesture. "I'm here now."

Ztar felt the moisture filling his eyes and he tried to blink it back. "You make me complete. Without you, life would be empty. Just stay, I- I beg you." Ztar was desperate for anyway to keep the human with him. He so feared Archangel would leave as soon as the transition was complete in a few short months. "Can't you love me enough to stay?" Ztar didn't mean to say it. The plea escaped without his permission. He realized in that moment that it was the only thing he truly wanted – for Archangel to love him; to find him worthy of being loved.

Warren was taken aback by the emotionally raw plea. 'What do I say now?' He slid up against the pillow and headboard. The Emperor slowly did likewise. "Ztar, I _do_ care about you. You are worthy of my love – of anyone's love. If I could make that happen by wanting it, I would be in love with you already and I would stay. But I can't force that into being anymore than you can stop loving me by just wanting to." As Warren said the words, he watched the man's face. The pain was hard to witness. 'Shit, this is not going well.'

Warren's thoughts raced. He did not wish to create false hope in Ztar, yet could any more progress be made with Ztar if he was hung up on this issue? Was there anything Warren could do to help Ztar accept his own worthiness? 'God, Worthington, you're not a psychiatrist and you're playing with a person's psyche here.' Yet he kept coming back to using simple honesty and openness as the best medicine. Maybe hope wasn't such a bad thing. Perhaps if Ztar felt there was something he could try, something he could do…a plan of action so to speak. Ztar was a man of action and used to being in control.

Warren took Ztar's hands into his. "Love happens or doesn't, Ztar. I want to you keep trying, okay? Just know that." Then he saw a spark return to the deep brown eyes.

"You do?" Ztar's sounded like a small boy, the voice so filled with uncertainty and desperate hope.

"Yes," Warren squeezed the powerful hands tightly.

"That's all I needed to hear." Ztar looked into the crystalline-blue eyes that never failed to mesmerize him. His heart swelled. His beloved was asking to help him grow to love Ztar. What more could he ask for at this point? Archangel wanted to love him! Ztar vowed to do whatever was necessary to give love a chance to manifest. The gods had been kind until now; perhaps they'd answer this one last prayer.

### --- ###

When you're royal court, mountains will be moved to abide your wishes. And when you're Emperor, a whole mountain range will be relocated. And so it was with Fjai Medical Research Facility.

At first the Fjai managing staff wasn't keen on the idea and neither were Ztar's two generals. Then Ztar explained the alternative – no access to Archangel and any possibility of finding a cure for the deadly Wynnar-Qxani virus through him. Curing that disease would be a major triumph for the medical community and he knew Fjai would be unable to resist the opportunity to examine one of the very few known survivors.

Generals Gtar-Cro from a security standpoint and Rehsaw from a logistical perspective as the military would be responsible for moving the large orbital space station, also protested the potential problems. Yet Gtar-Cro couldn't well argue against the logic of Archangel staying close to one of the most secure locations in the Empire – Sat'rey. And while Rehsaw pointed out moving large space stations was a tricky undertaking, it was not without precedence. The military had in actuality moved several orbital stations over the years, though Fjai would be one of the larger relocations. The journey would be a round trip for the station; towed back to Gamas II when the tests were concluded.

With protests quieted and everyone in agreement, Fjai would be moved at Ztar's command. He intentionally hadn't mentioned the idea as yet to his companion wanting to make certain the move could occur. Now the Emperor just needed to discuss it with Archangel.

###

Warren was busy with Ztar's calendar trying to find a slot for the bumped engagement. He stared at the calendar on his PI. So much time was blocked out by Sukja for imperial business that few options remained for personal appointments over the few weeks. It was a constant juggling act between him and Sukja trying to mesh all Ztar's obligations into a workable schedule. Imperial matters almost always took precedence and as such Sukja could bump a meeting or other engagement set by Warren for personal or social obligations not fully classified as an imperial function.

Ztar looked over at Archangel who was parked at the table staring at his PI with a heavy frown. "Something wrong?" he asked.

Warren sighed. "Actually, yes. Sukja's got you booked solid. He even bumped the trip to Niat and Splythe's. You did want to go on that, right?" Sukja was also invited to the lazy afternoon of lounging with good friends, talking, eating, and sharing good sanui. Atichi would be there as well.

"I do. Sukja knows that," Ztar sounded perplexed.

"Then I should ask. Perhaps something came up with Niat and it's been postponed. Funny, though, if that is the case that he didn't message us."

"What did Sukja schedule in its place?"

"It won't let me see." That only meant one thing; it was above Warren's security clearance.

Ztar sat forward in his lounge chair. "Then it sounds like something important came up. Sukja and I will discuss it at our meeting in the morning. Perhaps Niat can reschedule the outing."

Warren eyed Ztar. He didn't seem upset despite the impression Warren had gotten that Ztar was very much looking forward to the outing.

"Well, if you're okay with that, I'll comm Niat tomorrow and ask about a reschedule."

Ztar seemed to nod almost absentmindedly. "Archangel, there is another matter I'd like to discuss with you."

Warren set his PI down and waited.

"Do you still wish to help Fjai in their search for a Wynnar-Qxani cure?"

Warren was not all the surprised by the question. He had wondered about Fjai off and on, figuring eventually they'd ask about a second attempt to participate in their study. "I am, I guess. Same conditions as before – you go with me and they agree to your scanning. I take it they commed?"

"Yes. I, too, have certain conditions they need to meet. Namely, they come to us this time."

Warren was confused. Fjai was to come to Sat'rey? That didn't make sense. "What do you mean?"

"I told Fjai that if they wished to conduct any research with you, they'd have to come to Sat'rey. This is where you're safest. I won't risk another incident." Then Ztar smiled. "I don't think my heart could take another scare with you, Archangel. A Turzent can only take so much!"

Warren nodded. "It has been a rough year, I agree wholeheartedly. Still, how can they come here? Won't it disrupt a lot of people's work, not to mention moving all of what I'd guess is highly sensitive equipment? That's a lot to ask."

"It really won't disrupt as much as you're imaging. We'd simply move the research station to Sat'rey."

"You can do that? Move a whole space station?" He was amazed.

Ztar grinned. "It's actually not all that difficult. In essence, it's a towing operation. All modern stations are designed to hold up under FTL conditions."

"I'm impressed! It would have never occurred to me that stations could be towed great distances. Still there must be some preparation involved. Wouldn't it be simpler for the two of us to go to Fjai?"

Ztar shook his head. "No, I won't risk it. Sat'rey system is one of the most secure places in the Empire. There's a reason why the Etagllot waited for you to go out-of-system before attempting the kidnapping. Even with their advanced technology, taking you from Sat'rey would be too challenging."

"Drex didn't seem to have that much trouble," Warren pointed out.

Ztar actually flinched at that. Drex had found and exploited exactly the right set of weaknesses to snatch Sukja and Archangel. Those security lapses had since been corrected. "Nothing like that will happen again."

Warren nodded hoping that was the case. "So when is Fjai arriving?"

"It has not been scheduled. I simply told them what the price was for your cooperation. Everyone is waiting for your decision. I would never assume to make that decision for you."

Warren thought about the original reasons he decided to go to Fjai – those reasons hadn't changed. But now more than ever, he wanted answers about what happened when he died and perhaps the Fjai research could be a two-way street.

"There is one thing I'd like their help with in exchange." Ztar gave an inquisitive look that invited him to continue. "It all ties together with the W-Q research anyway, so I was hoping we could work it out. I'd like to see if they can learn anything about that glow or energy or whatever it was that you and Sukja saw when I died."

"Remember that night after we learn Jharda may have been killed? I may have seen a glow then, too, but I can't be sure. I was a little out of it."

Warren laughed. "You're picking up some of my speech patterns, Ztar. Do you know that?"

The Turzent chuckled in return. "But it describes the situation well." Ztar's expression returned to one of seriousness. "Archangel, are you certain you want to undergo more testing?"

"I won't be certain until it begins, but I'd like to take advantage of their technology while I can. I could learn a lot about myself."

Ztar leaned back in his chair to put his feet up and got resettled with his PI. "Then I will inform Fjai and the others to begin preparations."

Warren thought about what it may be like being in the hands of the researchers. 'How did being a lab rat become a recurring theme in your life, Worthington?' he asked himself. At least this time, he would be the one calling the shots.

### --- ###

Months ago, Warren had set his PI to track the Earth calendar in relation to the standard imperial calendar, the official imperial calendar being roughly the same as the Sat'rey planetary year. When he remembered, he checked what day it was back home. He'd forgotten to check in for a while and one day was startled when it told him that it was December 24. Christmas Eve! Warren had held that night sacred for as long as he could remember, always spending it first with family, then later as family passed away, with friends – usually his X-family.

He decided then and there that if he couldn't get to Christmas, Christmas would have to come to him. Heading down to the greenhouse, he was on a mission to find a tree substitute and hoping Moit'de would have something.

"Be inside long?" Moit'de asked in concern for the plant's well-being.

"Just a few days. I won't hurt it, honestly!" Warren couldn't help but tease the gardener. "It should be about this tall," Warren indicated hip height, "with sturdy branches." He'd go with a tabletop tree.

Moit'de starting walking toward one end of the greenhouse. Warren loved the smell of the greenhouse – earthy, almost musty while still being fresh. What he didn't like was the heat, but he tolerated it when needed. The master gardener led him to some tall shrubs that were the Sat'rey equivalent of trees. Sat'rey had no true trees as defined by Earth standards. Tall trunks barren of limbs for the first many feet simply weren't to be found. Tall shrubs towering 20 and 30 feet or more were abundant.

They stopped in front of a possibility. "Genglithus be happy in palace small time."

The plant was a little too sparsely foliated to be suitable. "It's the right height, but is there something with more leaves?"

Moit'de moved to a different aisle to approach another small shrub. "Utz Evad?"

This shrub was about the same size as the last, but the color wasn't right. "Too summery looking," Warren felt looking its pastel leaves of pinks and peaches. Moit'de looked contemplative, then took off again for the far side of the building.

Even before they reached it, Warren knew it was the right one. "Enih-isoz it must be," Moit'de seemed confident.

"Yes! Perfect, Moit'de." The shrub was pyramidal with deep emerald green foliage that was thick and shiny.

Carrying his prize back to his chambers, he got a several odd looks as he made his through the palace to their suite – the plant was a little too awkward to fly with while keeping it safely vertical. He smiled recalling the almost motherly way in which Moit'de had lent Warren the plant, providing a plethora of care instructions. In Warren's mind the five-minute tutorial equated to water it once a day sparingly and make sure it sits in the light. Easy.

Pulling a side table in front of the balcony doors, he placed the potted shrub on its new throne, grabbed a couple towels for a tree skirt and draped them nicely around the pot.

'Now for some decorations,' but he came up short in the department. Perhaps Wxia'ne could help. The temperamental alien was in charge of palace entertainment and Warren thought he might have the lights used during social events. Wxia'ne referred him onto to maintenance with a somewhat miffed attitude that Warren would be so misguided as to think Wxia'ne and _his_ staff would be responsible for such mundane tasks as hanging palace ornamentation.

'Truly amazing the service being royal court entitles you,' Warren mused as he returned from the bowels of the palace where the head of maintenance was hidden away. He'd gone there thinking he'd simply make do with whatever they could provide. Instead he came away with a diminutive, custom strung lighting that looked very much like Christmas lights from home. Warren also dug through the various palace decorations in storage until he found items small enough for the diminutive tree. He smiled all the way back to his chambers humming a carol.

After much fussing and rearranging, he felt all looked just right. He powered up the lights and stood back to admire his work. "Looking good, Tannenbaum!"

He sent a message to Sukja, Lar, Moit'de, Delme, Gragne, Wxia'ne, Vozeipar'de, and even Rja inviting them up for the spontaneous gathering in his and Ztar's chambers just after dark. A quick message to Ztar warned the Emperor to be prepared for guests. He didn't think Ztar would mind, but if he did, too bad. It was Christmas Eve. Warren would celebrate this year no matter what as it went by unnoticed last time. And if it turned out everyone was already busy, he and Ztar would celebrate in quietly on their own, sitting by the fire and talking. But Warren felt confident that at least Sukja, the Chef, and Moit'de would show.

Now he needed some eggnog and food and Christmas Eve would be looking up. A visit to the kitchens and after a little research, Chef Delme came up with a nog equivalent that tasted remarkably similar, complete with the requisite kick. The Chef expressed excitement about the gathering and busied himself immediately to gather up sweet and savory treats. With trays loaded, Warren made his third haul of the day to his chambers, declining assistance. Part of the fun was in the preparation and he'd enjoy every task.

"Tree? Check. Drink? Check. Food? Check. Fireplace?" he hit the manual control to turn it on. "Check. Friends? Not yet!"

It wasn't two minutes after Warren got all the food laid out that the Emperor entered their chambers with an inquisitive look. "Did I forget an occasion?" he asked seeming concerned about a possible oversight, gazing around at the decorated shrub by the balcony and the food spread out on the table.

"It's Christmas Eve!" Warren said with exaggerated bafflement that the Emperor would have forgotten, knowing Ztar wouldn't have a clue.

Ztar gave him a suspicious eye. "Christmas Eve?"

"You know – lighted trees, presents, cookies, caroling, snow, friends and family. _Christmas_!" he explained, inserting the English words where his Turzent failed him while struggling to hold in the snicker at the perplexed look crossing the Turzent's face.

Ztar suddenly took on a guilty expression, looking around at all Warren's preparations. "I'm sorry, my Archangel. This Christmas is obviously important to you and I was unaware. Please tell me about it."

Warren laughed lightly and saw instant relief on the Emperor's face. "I'm just giving you a hard time. But for the story of Christmas, you need to wait until everyone's here. Then I'll expound its significance. Right now, you and I need to finish getting ready for our guests." Warren was suddenly concerned about the last minute timing of his invitation. "You think they'll show, don't you?"

It was Ztar's turn to laugh. "Archangel, when a member of court requests the presence of staff, they _will_ come."

"Shit!" In his enthusiasm, Warren had forgotten the weight his invitation carried. He'd never get used to being royalty despite having grown up in extreme wealth. "I think I just committed a faux pas," he said with some embarrassment.

Ztar walked over to the human feeling the sudden shift in his mood and drew him in for a quick embrace, chuckling. "My precious Archangel, it is an invitation they would have accepted under any circumstances. Everyone cares you – they'd never consider not attending."

"I didn't mean this to be a command performance." Warren stepped out of the Ztar's arms. "And I'm not confident about Rja, but it is Christmas and I couldn't not invite her." He knew she'd be the least likely to attend, likely finding some sudden household emergency that required her personal attention.

Ztar cocked his head at that. There was still much tension between Archangel and the palace housemaster, but the relationship had come a long way from early on when Rja felt little but contempt for the human. "It was good of you to include her. She will come out of a sense of duty," Ztar said truthfully.

"I'd rather she came out of a sense of something else," Warren replied. He'd be welcoming to Rja if only in honor of Christmas.

###

Sukja made sure he was the first to arrive. He wasn't going to leave anything to chance with Archangel's impromptu gathering. Whether the human realized it or not, this was a first. Soon after, everyone seemed to come at once. Sukja, the master conversationalist he was, kept the words flowing to help ease any nervousness palace staff was feeling stepping inside the Emperor chambers, which several of them had never done before. It wasn't long before the room was filled with the sounds of talking and laughing.

Ztar lightly read the minds of his palace heads of staff. They were surprised and a bit anxious about being inside the private chambers of their ruler. Yet they felt honored at the same time that the Emperor and his companion held them in such esteem as to invite them to a gathering within those sacrosanct walls. Watching Archangel serve up food and drink, laughing and explaining the brightly lit and decorated potted shrub, he smiled. The human apparently hadn't a clue of the barrier he had just shattered.

The Emperor had felt immediate concern when he received Archangel's message about the gathering. Now, though, it felt right. The people in their chambers were vital to Imperial life on Sat'rey. They ran his palace and home, keeping it safe and comfortable while maintaining its status as the royal residence. Yet the class difference between palace staff and imperial staff separated them, the gap always there even if not fully acknowledged. This single event could partially erode that gap. Archangel's gathering may not permanently span it, but it may never be quite as wide. Another way in which Archangel was changing things without fully realizing that he was.

A while into the evening, Ztar called to his companion. "Archangel, perhaps now you will share with us the significance of your Christmas."

"Indeed, I'm anxious to hear the story," Sukja added with enthusiasm as each time the human was asked what the celebration was about, he had said the story would come later.

Making sure everyone had drink in hand and seated, he stood next to the fireplace and began the tale of Christmas.

"Now you must understand that not all of Earth believes in Christmas, but for people who do, it is a sacred holiday. Its beginnings go back over 2000 years in history to a time when humans were still riding animals or traveling by foot and life was filled with warring and uncertainty. People were searching for something better than they had – something to give them hope."

As he wove his tale, his audience became transfixed with the story of a couple answering the call of their emperor to go to the city of their birth to be counted while the young woman was readying for their firstborn. Finding the city full, the couple was forced to bed down with the animals in a barn. There the infant decided to be born. But it was no ordinary child. This child was fathered not by the male, but by their god himself. His purpose would be to spread a message of hope to humans and to sacrifice himself many years later to guarantee eternal salvation for all who chose to believe. And so, to the present day, the day of the child-god's birth was celebrated by his followers.

When he finished, Warren let his eyes travel around to each of his audience. Everyone seemed to have gotten caught up in the story much to his relief. He wasn't the master storyteller that Sukja was, but he'd hoped to keep their attention at a minimum. It seemed he had done that.

"A beautiful tale, filled with triumph and hope," Sukja said to break the silence.

"Story of gentle strength," Moit'de added, smiling broadly at Warren.

"Well told!" Cronit Lar proclaimed.

Warren let the warm feelings in the room wash over him. This was turning out to be a very good Christmas Eve. "There's plenty more food! Thank you, Chef, for your last minute accommodation to keep us fed tonight," he gave recognition with a nod to Delme.

It was late when everyone began to look like they needed to get some sleep, but they wouldn't leave without a signal from the Emperor and so Ztar made such an indication. "Thank you all for attending to help us honor Christmas."

He looked around and noticed Archangel and Rja standing off to one corner. What was transpiring between them, he wondered.

Warren gazed into the woman's face. She was an unfinished task on his to-do list. While they had now worked together for some time, the tension remained. She likely would never accept him as Imperial staff – it just didn't fit her austere view of what was right and proper, but he hoped she'd eventually accept him for who he was.

"Rja, thank you for coming. I realize you did so out of duty, not because of me. Just know that I appreciate the effort."

The Turzent's face was expressionless. "I perform my duties to the best of my ability," she replied in an neutral voice.

"That is truth. We are blessed to have you as our palace housemaster. I realize that my being Imperial staff will never be right in your eyes, but it was not of my choosing or my desire. Our Emperor had a mind of his own in that regard," Warren offered with a small smile. "Ztar can be quite the rule breaker," he added thinking back to the times when Ztar stubbornly went against reason and logic – the Hydeera raid for instance.

To his surprise, Rja actually smiled at that. "Emperor Ztar indeed has his own vision. While at first I was afraid about the direction he is taking the Empire, I now see the wisdom. He remains our ruler and so will his heirs, while his new role frees him of the daily burdens of managing our empire. He explained that instead he will focus on the larger issues that will bring our destiny to fruition."

"I see no reason why that destiny will be anything but legendary, do you?"

"With Emperor Ztar as our guide, I do not."

Rja seemed suddenly uncharacteristically uncomfortable. Warren said nothing and took a sip of his eggnog-equivalent to wait for whatever Rja wanted to say. He was rewarded for his patience.

"Archangel, I said things to you after you first arrived that were unkind."

"You've already explained that you regretted…"

She held up her hand to cut him off. "I never apologized. I'm apologizing now. You've proven your devotion to Ztar and while I first believed you weakened him, I see now that you have strengthened him. The compassion he has acquired is actually a powerful force. It adds to his ability to rule – it does not detract from it. Power without compassion would not build a lasting empire."

Warren blinked. This was far more than he dared hope from Rja. "The empire is evolving – Ztar is evolving. What was required to build the empire is not the same as what is needed to maintain and nurture it," Warren echoed his own words to Ztar from the past. "Sometimes we must prune off what no longer serves a purpose and grow in new ways that helps us thrive in a changing universe," he continued with Moit'de's wisdom.

The woman looked down at the glass in her hand. "Good advice for both the empire and its people. Advice that I'm trying to follow myself," Rja admitted.

Had she been talking with Moit'de, Sukja, both? She elaborated no further. "As am I, Rja. If we remain stuck in the past, we can't be part of the future."

She looked at him once again. "And it will be a glorious future for our empire," she said with conviction.

Warren smiled broadly. "I agree with you completely," he replied inserting as much friendly warmth as he could into the sentiment.

Just then Ztar approached. "Rja, I need to steal Archangel away from you to say goodnight to our other guests," he interrupted with a smile. "Thank you for joining us."

"My honor, Emperor," she said with a slight bow and left the corner.

"All is well between you?" Ztar asked his companion, but he already knew from the empathic connection that something good had transpired between the two.

Warren was encouraged by the conversation with Rja – a major step toward burying the hatchet perhaps. He hoped the change in her attitude stuck. "It might be."

A while later with the guests gone, they sat in bed watching the flames in the fireplace to unwind, sipping Dison.

"This was a good evening, my Archangel. Thank you for it." Ztar wanted his companion to know.

"The Christmas spirit is alive and well on Sat'rey," Warren commented lightly. "It _was_ a good evening."

"Christmas Eve is always celebrated like this?"

Warren nodded. "For many people on Earth, yes. A time for friends, family, and good cheer."

"On Sat'rey, we have few celebrations. H'ton Me Rzyr is our most significant. I believe part of it is that the Sat'rey's native peoples celebrate life every day. They are joyful people and those who first immigrated here were pulled into the Sat'reyan way and tended to leave their own traditions behind."

"So while the Sat'reyans were invaded so to speak, in a way they actually conquered those who came," Warren observed. He'd heard the sentiment before about native population's affect on newcomers. With the huge influx of outsiders, their culture could have been overwhelmed and lost, but it had not. It had grown and flourished in the hearts and minds of the varied species who came to call Sat'rey home, Ztar's own kind included. "From what I've heard and read, they welcomed newcomers rather than fought them and so enthralled their invaders, the invaders wanted to emulate the Sat'reyans. And look at the result."

Ztar gazed at the man next to him. "Domination through submission," he summed up and waited for Archangel to return the look.

Warren felt Ztar's eyes and looked away from the fire to the Turzent. He watched a smile cross the handsome face.

"Like you did me," Ztar pointed out. It was truth.

Warren wasn't going to let a chance like that slip away. "Damn right. And all the time you thought you had the upper hand, I was just biding my time…" It was a complete twist of reality, but what the hell. He liked suggesting it.

Ztar grinned. He'd play along. "Perhaps the Emperor should be more leery of his Archangel," he replied, downing the last of the sweet, fiery liqueur and setting the glass on the side table. "He is quite devious."

"Yup, the Emperor should be very wary. Humans are not to be underestimated!" Warren saw the fire light in the Turzent's eyes. He was so-o-o predictable.

"Indeed. The Emperor has learned just how cunning and feisty that species can be. Best that their world remains quarantined or the whole of the Empire could be at risk," Ztar ran his hand over the edge of the wing sandwiched between them, pulling the end of the wing with a slight tug to emphasize his point.

Warren finished his drink as well. This was escalating quickly to exactly where it he knew it would. "And if the Emperor doesn't stop yanking this human's feathers, he'll find out just how feisty!"

Ztar twisted sideways bringing his arm across the front of Archangel to lean over him, their faces a breath from each other's. "Perhaps the Emperor needs an example. Just to make sure he understands."

A sharp jab to the ribs made the Emperor wince. "Good enough?" Warren asked with a smirk.

"Not quite feisty enough. The Emperor still has his doubts." Ztar loved the repartee with his companion. It ignited him without fail, something he was certain Archangel understood.

"I'd say that the human has already proven his point."

"The feisty point or the cunning point?" Ztar said moving his face even closer to the sensual lips he wanted to take in.

"Since the Emperor is now all hot and bothered, I'd say both. Not to mention the domination through submission angle. The human's got the Emperor just where he wants him." Warren's own body began to anticipate the delights to come.

Ztar brushed his lips across Archangel's and their empathic connection began sizzling. "The Emperor hasn't yet surrendered. Perhaps he will be able to resist."

Warren brought a hand to Ztar's side and slowly moved it down the toned body to as far as he could reach. That simple act made the Turzent shudder. "Oh, I don't think so. Resistance is futile," Warren said using the famous _Star Trek: The Next Gen_ line.

Now Ztar was hopelessly aroused. There was no turning back. 'By the gods what Archangel can do to me with a simple touch!' he said to himself in amazement after five years together. "Resistance would be folly," he breathed against the lips just before he took them into his mouth.

And so the balance of Christmas Eve was celebrated as only Warren and Ztar could.

### --- ###

The comm call came late in Ztar's day. It was unexpected in its barely concealed pain. She sounded vulnerable and in need of an old friend. What had happened? Had Jharda finally begun letting the emotional wounds break open? And so within hours, he left to go to her. Now he stood in the doorway of her home on Gamas I waiting for her to answer. She'd not accepted his offers to visit in the past. This time he had insisted, despite her half-hearted protests. He was nervous for a reason he couldn't identify.

"Thank you for coming," Jharda said as the door slid open.

Jharda's face held a smile, but Ztar looked into her sad eyes and expanded his empathic senses. They echoed one another – Jharda was in emotional pain. "Nothing could keep me away," he answered tenderly.

"Please come inside," she said looking around for the guards that should be nearby.

"The guards will remain outside, Jharda," he explained. She only nodded in response and closed the door.

If one did not know that Jharda had been a bombing victim, suffered horrific wounds, and had lost an eye and a leg, you would never know. The prosthetics were perfect and all physical injuries had healed. She was as beautiful as ever.

"Would you like some tanquer root tea? I blame Sukja for my addiction, you should know," she said light-heartedly, but Ztar felt the strain that effort was causing her. She was putting on a brave front.

"Only if you're indulging your addiction also. Otherwise, I'm fine," he answered, making his way to a chair large enough for his seven-foot frame.

Jharda moved to her kitchen area and poured two large cups and brought them into her sitting area. "How is the Etagllot investigation proceeding? Was the raid on Hydeera successful?" she inquired taking a seat across from Ztar.

"We had limited success with that operation. The head researcher from Ymoz escaped, but we will not rest until we've gotten her, her cohorts, and all the others who dare to align themselves with that group."

"I'm sorry that the researcher escaped, but Gtar-Cro will find her again. He's like a Jezsian tracker on the scent," she observed, referring to the famed hunters of Themra who rarely lost the trail once tracking prey, sentient or otherwise. The infamous version had become highly feared and equally highly paid bounty hunters.

Ztar chuckled. It was an apt description. He'd use that in the future. "Indeed!"

Jharda seemed to steel herself for her next question. "Anything new on the group behind the Mon Genesis bombing?"

"Gtar-Cro believes we have crippled the Mennisa Freedom Fighters organization for all intents and purposes. As you know, many are in custody and we continue to make inroads into their tangled network. Some leads point back once again to the Commonwealth," Ztar said with a mix of anger and sadness. Would the Commonwealth ever stop trying to undermine his Empire?

Jharda sat contemplatively, sipping the hot tea. "There will always be those who seek to destroy what others have created. Your new Empire may prove more vulnerable than the old. Freedom can be both a blessing and a curse."

It was almost as if Jharda had read his mind. Those thoughts were not new to Ztar. He had often contemplated the risks of increased freedoms for his people. That was a subject for another time, though. Jharda was his concern at the moment.

"I did not come here to talk of investigations and terrorists, Jharda. I came to see how you are recovering. With all that has happened since the bombing, I fear I have not been here for you as fully as I should have. I regret that," he said from his heart. He should have visited sooner, he could see that now.

Jharda eyes shot to Ztar's and held his gaze as if searching for something. "You are Emperor and your Empire demands your attention, especially right now. I have recovered and you should not be concerned about me. You've more important matters to attend to."

Ztar sensed the words and her emotions conflicting. He wanted to touch her mind, to read exactly what she was thinking, but he respected her privacy more than that during this difficult time. Empathy was far less invasive and he would go no further than that.

"Jharda, you are important to me. You always have been. I want to know how you truly are doing, beneath the strong-willed Jharda Myrundra you show to others," he urged, setting the cup down on the side table. He was done with subtleties.

She eyed him at that. "Are you reading me?" A feeling a violation came with the accusation.

"No, Jharda. I would not intrude on your privacy when I'm here as a friend and not as your Emperor. Your staff tells me how remarkable you've been through all this. How steady and courageous. What they see is the outside, Jharda. How are you on the inside?"

Ztar could see immediately he had struck a nerve. Jharda blinked and he saw moisture shimmer in her eyes, but her voice didn't waver when she spoke.

"I'm dealing with it. Wallowing in self-pity and letting fear rule you only destroys what the terrorists did not. I won't let them win. They won't weaken me," she said with defiance in her voice and eyes.

To Ztar, it sounded like a message spoken for the comnet. In those brave words, Ztar heard echoes of Sukja and Archangel after their kidnapping by Drex's terrorist group. The same theme – don't let the terrorists win.

"I am surrounded by such strength of will," Ztar said almost without realizing it. Jharda looked him inquisitively and he continued. "You, Sukja, Archangel – each of you have been through a horrifying event that could have destroyed your spirit. Instead you have such determination in not letting those events rule you."

His head of planetary relations looked instantly concerned. "You mean the Drex kidnapping? But I thought Sukja and Archangel were rescued quickly, and they were mostly unharmed."

The specifics of what Archangel and Sukja had endured were kept quiet. Even during Drex's trial and the other trials, he told legal counsel that the rapes and torture were off-limit subjects. He would not have Archangel and Sukja's pain become comnet fodder. Therefore, only a handful of people were in the know, and Jharda was not one of them. His voice for the royal court was not told so she could honestly deny any knowledge of such events should a leak occur.

"Just know that they endured far more than was revealed. And like you, they put on brave faces and carried on as if nothing more than a simple kidnapping had occurred." Ztar slid to the edge of his seat to move closer to her. "But Jharda, I sat with them while they wept. I held them and felt the pain that nearly devoured them. The healing takes time and as they told me, it helps to share the pain and fear with someone you trust. Someone that will not judge you if you reveal how vulnerable you feel and how much you hurt."

Jharda's eyes were brimming now. Ztar watched as she struggled to maintain control. He felt her pain for Archangel and Sukja, as well as for herself. He wanted her to lower the facade; it would be good for her. And he sensed she wanted to, that it was the real reason she had allowed him to come. Perhaps she just needed to hear that he was willing. He reached out and took her clenched hand. "Jharda, let me be that someone."

She did not speak for many seconds, and Ztar gave her the time she needed. He had learned much about simply listening when Sukja had come to him after the kidnapping. He learned that sometimes silence says more than words.

Then her demeanor changed and the dropping of the tough Jharda mask was almost tangible. "They…they killed people who were like _family_ to me," she started. "Vjax, Tranzer Pon, and the others. They are gone and I'm still here. Well, part of me is here," she said kicking out her prosthetic leg. "Why did I survive? It- it makes no sense! I was closer – I was the target."

The empathic link radiated anger with undercurrents of intense pain. Ztar had no answers that would not seem trite and so he offered none. "I am grateful you survived, Jharda. Tranzer Pon and Vjax would be, too. They cared about you a great deal – that was obvious to everyone."

Jharda nodded and swallowed hard, placing her cup down. "They should still be here. It was so meaningless! So unnecessary! Mennisa Freedom Fighters." The name came out with viciousness. "Freedom from _what_? The new Empire _is_ freedom. I don't understand what they believe is better than what you're creating."

Jharda's eyes met his and the tears flowed. "I hope you destroy them all like they destroyed Vjax's and Pon's futures and their families' lives." The anger burned hot through the empathic connection.

"They have met justice," Ztar offered, "for those deaths and for what they took from you."

"What I lost is meaningless compared to what their families had ripped from them!" Jharda's voice was almost self-condemning as were the sensations telegraphing through the link.

"Jharda, do not discount what's been taken from you. Your loss is not meaningless."

"I'm alive. I'm walking and seeing. They are dead – never to walk again. Never to see their loved ones again. Never again to hold their children when they cry or make love to their mate." Jharda stood up and looked down at Ztar. "The people who died that day will never again tell someone they love them. Now tell me that my loss has any consequence!" Jharda was visibly shaking.

Ztar looked up into the eyes filled with so much hurt and anger. "All that is true, Jharda. But you lost much as well. You lost friends, your sense of security, and parts of yourself that day. Give yourself permission to grief those losses. Do not deny them."

"But I didn't deserve…" she started, but didn't finish.

"You didn't deserve what? To _live_?"

Then as if something physically hit her, Jharda swayed and began sobbing. Ztar rose and pulled her into his arms.

"W-why did they d-die and not me?!" the words struggled to get out as she clung to him.

"I have no answer for you, my dear Jharda, but I thank the gods that you are still here and for that I will be eternally grateful. When I thought you were lost to me, I could not bear it." He rested his chin on her head and held her tightly as she wept, wishing he could sweep away her pain and misplaced guilt.

Many minutes later, Jharda pushed slightly back from him, wiping her face. "I must look terrible," she said almost nervously. Empathic signals told him she was emotionally closing the door once again. He'd press her no further today.

He looked down into the face of the woman who had once been his lover. "You are beautiful, Jharda, tears or not," he said wiping another escaping droplet from her face. "As beautiful as the first day I saw you at the military base all those years ago. I fell in love with you at the very moment," he said with a smile at the warm memory.

"Years ago is right, Emperor, and those years show. Now I can add a false leg and eye to my growing list of imperfections." Jharda pushed completely away from Ztar and took a few steps back. Something new telegraphed through the link – self-disdain.

"Jharda, I meant what I said. Actually, you are even more beautiful today. Then you simply had the beauty of youth. Now that beauty is deeper, wiser, and stronger – it has become richer because of those years."

Jharda actually chuckled and Ztar was pleased while he saw/felt gratitude, yet feelings of doubt accompanied it. "Emperor, you have a way with words that would turn any female your way."

Suddenly all the old feelings welled up. The memories of the time they spent together, the nights of passionate, exuberant sex and leisurely sensuality, and the bond they once shared. How much he had loved her then. Through the years, he thought those feelings had disappeared, but they had only been buried. Now he let them fill him once again.

Jharda was watching him and he saw something in her eyes. The empathic link was in turmoil with confused emotions, but he believed longing was in there somewhere. Ztar stepped toward Jharda carefully. She held her ground and his next step was followed by a certainty of the longing. Jharda needed him at this moment.

Another step and he pulled her into his arms once again and brought his mouth down on hers. At first she resisted but within moments she had melted into the kiss. The empathic connection burst into flames and she began kissing him back with desperate intensity. Their tongues intertwined and hands roamed each other, trying to find a way beneath the clothing.

Suddenly, Jharda pulled her mouth away and looked him in the eyes. "I want you to stay with me tonight, Ztar. I _need_ you," she said with open vulnerability.

A brief flash of Archangel's face crossed Ztar's mind, but the need for physical bonding he was feeling from Jharda overrode any thoughts beyond her. Ztar took her mouth once again as he swept her up into his arms and headed for the bedchamber.

As he and Jharda rekindled the passion, Ztar restrained his strength as he had learned over the years with Archangel. He took pleasure in gentle sensuality, exploring the body beneath him that he once knew so well. Jharda's need was great and he filled her with bliss, letting his empathic abilities guide him. She moaned and writhed beneath him in ecstasy and he rejoiced.

He entered Jharda's mind deeply enough to read what he required to give her what she needed. What he found was a longing to know she was still desirable, that her physical losses did not lessen that. As Ztar caressed and tantalized her body, he sent telepathic feelings of desire and awe for the beautiful body beneath his. The response was immediate and Jharda gave to him with abandon.

Up and down each other's body they kissed, licked, and nipped. He teased her with his tongue and she likewise titillated him with her fingertips. Soon it was only him and her in all the universe as they lost themselves to each other.

When the sex was over and she lay wrapped in his embrace, he whispered to her the words that he had said a half a lifetime ago. "I love you, Jharda. I always have and always will."

She rose up on an elbow and looked into his eyes. "That's just the sex talking, Ztar." The words carried no harshness.

He met her eyes. "No, it is the truth. It was the first time I said it and nothing has changed. I may have told myself that the love had faded, but it was has not. It was only in hiding."

"You already have a love, my Emperor, or have you so quickly forgotten Archangel?" There was doubt in Jharda's look.

"I have enough love for both," he said an immediately knew it was a mistake. Jharda sat up.

"That you may, but I am an intrusion into your relationship of what, five years now? No, my Emperor. What I think you're envisioning will not work. Not for me at least." She slipped out of the bed and grabbed a robe off a nearby chair to wrap herself.

Ztar sat up and was going speak, but Jharda did first. "Just knowing you still care for me gives me strength. I will not come between you and Archangel."

"Do _you_ still love _me_, Jharda?" Ztar asked point blank and then focused on Jharda empathically. She would have a difficult time lying without him knowing.

She took a deep breath and slowly released it. He sensed she was calculating whether or not she could deceive the powerful telepath. "Like you, I believed those feelings long past. But now… Yes, I believe I still love you. I have since the very beginning."

Ztar rose out of the bed and stood before Jharda. "You never took a mate. Why?" he suddenly needed to hear.

She searched his face. "I think the answer is obvious. I never found anyone else I loved."

Ztar closed his eyes for a moment to let her answers sink in. She still loved him. She never loved another. All the wasted years! Opening his eyes, he took her in his arms. "We have been fools," he said quietly.

"No, Ztar. We were realistic. Sometimes love is not to be. Ours is not to be." Her arms wrapped around his body and she held him close.

"Perhaps not in the past, but now…" he let the thought dangle. There was still Archangel. He wanted both of them. Suddenly, his private life was a tangled mess. "We'll make no decisions now. Let's just see where life takes us this time, my Jharda. But know this," he said pulling back to look into her eyes. "I usually get what I want," he said smiling.

She chuckled into his chest. "That you do, my Emperor. That you do."

### --- ###

_There is it. I'll be waiting to read your comments! I'm feeling a tad tapped out as our story is making the turn for the home stretch, so I need reviews to help stay focused and energized. I think the winter doldrums are hitting me, too. I need sun and warmth!! Will spring ever come?_

_I know, it's blatant begging, but what the hell. I need you all to keep me motivated. The plan is for 19 chapters, so we've six more to go – some quite short, a couple are longer. There's more emotional stuff coming your way as we close in on the ending, so stick with me lovers of angst._


	14. Chapter 14

_A lot is crammed into Chapter 14. It focuses more on the internal struggles of our duo with a sprinkling of imperial business thrown in. Ztar is torn and Warren is confused. Moit'de lends his insight once again, Warren gets a surprise, what of the __Ennovy-__Eiram __celebration (?)__, and Jharda asks a question that ends with Ztar fully accepting what he has been denying._

**Chapter 14**

Sukja poured two tall glasses of Raimami – his Emperor looked like he needed it. They settled into the sitting area in Sukja's chambers.

As soon as Ztar sat, he took a long draw of the strong liquor. This conversation was one he never thought he would have. How had this happened? "Sukja, I don't know how much you've surmised already, but there's a matter concerning Jharda I need to talk about."

Sukja watched his Emperor closely. He strongly suspected there was more to Ztar's recent visits to his court member than to merely check on her recovery as Ztar had labeled the trips. The simple fact that he asked Sukja to keep his destination confidential had immediately raised suspicion. Sukja performed as requested, of course, and not shared with anyone that it was Jharda the Emperor had gone to. But to anyone paying attention, the sudden increase in off-world meetings would be an interesting development. The visits had begun nearly five weeks ago when Jharda commed sounding emotionally distressed. The Emperor had dropped everything to be at her side. Sukja's instincts suggested an explanation, now perhaps the Emperor would confirm.

"Her recovery is progressing well?" Sukja took a sip of tea and watched the Turzent's face.

"Very well, physically and emotionally. She is strong. Jharda has a spirit that is difficult to break. She will come out of this whole."

Sukja smiled. "I am relieved to hear that."

Ztar looked down into his drink. "I've a confession to make," Ztar began. "It's about my trips to visit her. They are not what I professed them to be. The situation has become…complex."

"In what way?" Sukja feigned obliviousness.

Ztar's faced clouded and he almost appeared angry. Sukja thought perhaps Ztar had picked up on his small deception empathically.

"I'm angry that I've let this happen. What was I thinking?" Ztar shook his head. "But I love them both, Sukja. Just differently."

"You and Jharda are a pairing," Sukja stated smoothly; he didn't ask.

Ztar looked at him and then quickly away as if feeling guilty. "Yes. Now in hindsight, I don't think I ever stopped loving her; only convinced myself that I didn't."

"And she feels equally toward you?"

"She says so and my senses tell me she speaks truthfully, but she is holding herself at bay because of Archangel."

"No doubt," Sukja empathized, taking a deep sip of the Raimami. "Does Archangel know?"

"I haven't the courage. If I do, he will certainly leave." Ztar leaned toward his aide and friend. "I don't want to lose him – I love him, deeply. More deeply than Jharda perhaps. Archangel is in my soul like no one else could ever be. But with Jharda, I feel a connection on a completely different level. She's of my world. She understands the pressures of imperial leadership. Her spirit is free and wanting to be at my side. She wants to grow old with me. Archangel does not."

Sukja weighed his next words carefully. "Perhaps, my Emperor, it is time to release Archangel from his vow. You may be ready."

"But I love him, Sukja! What Jharda and I have is good, but Archangel feeds my very soul, not to mention what we have in bed."

Ztar hadn't really responded to his point, so Sukja tried from another angle. "Could Jharda also feed your soul if Archangel were not here?"

Ztar was quiet for many breaths. Could she take Archangel's place if he stepped aside? Ztar wasn't sure he wanted to risk it. Not yet. "I'm not certain, Sukja. What if he goes and a void remains? What if I go back to what I was trying to fill that void? I don't think I'm ready. And I know I'm not ready to give up the physical aspect. No one, not ever Jharda, will ever satisfy me like Archangel. No, I want him to stay."

"But if Jharda is unwilling to share you, and Archangel, if I dare presume, would also be unwilling, then you have a decision to make, my Emperor."

Ztar shot up at the statement of reality. "I want them both! Emperor's in the past have had more than one companion. In fact, that was the norm rather than the exception. I chose to have only one companion at a time almost _against_ tradition," he explained as he began to walk Sukja's chambers aimlessly.

"My Emperor, perhaps you should look more long term, past the next few months or even the next couple years. Archangel cannot give you children, cannot love you the way you deserve, he cannot be your lifemate. Jharda can." Sukja followed the man with his eyes. The whole body spoke of a man torn.

Ztar continued to pace, his face furrowed from the confliction. "There must be a way. A spouse and a companion – tradition supports that. I won't give up on Archangel. Something stirs within him, Sukja. I've felt it, though I believe he tries to hide it from me. He wants to love me. He told me to keep trying. If there's a chance with him, I don't want to let him go now!"

"Yet there is Jharda, who already loves you. Will you risk losing her over a chance that something might change within Archangel's heart? Is that truly what you wish to do?" Sukja asked, watching the man as he paced the room.

"Perhaps she will accept Archangel staying as my companion."

Sukja said nothing. To Ztar, it may seem a solution, but to Jharda and Archangel it would be too much to ask. Ztar was grasping, but Sukja believed he'd come to realize on his own a three-way relationship would not work given the other two people involved.

Ztar approached the sitting area, eyed the chair as if it may be a trap, but then sat back down. "That won't be acceptable to them, will it?" he said sounded defeated. Then eyes that reflect the turmoil caught Sukja's. "I can't lose him, Sukja, but I don't want to lose Jharda a second time either. For years, I had no one I loved. Now I love one too many. This is a cruel turn of fortune."

"My Emperor, perhaps no decision is necessary as yet. Jharda accepts that you are still with Archangel at least for now?" Ztar nodded. "And Archangel as yet knows nothing of Jharda. Give yourself time to sort this through. It may be that the answer presents itself."

Ztar sighed deeply. "That may be best, yet it means continuing the deception." Ztar ran his hand through his hair. "I'm just not ready to make any decisions for when I do, one of the people I love will leave and I'm not strong enough to face that."

Sukja sipped his drink and watched the Emperor take a large gulp of liquor. No, the Emperor wasn't quite ready to the one go, but he was close – so very close. Archangel's time on Sat'rey was coming to an end.

### --- ###

Warren queried for information on Earth, which he did regularly, and found more had been added to the Imperial knowledge base. The interstellar library was accessed through the comnet and available to nearly anyone with a comlink. Whoever was responsible for entering the data was being very selective, however. Basic information only was presented such as location, species biography, length of year, star system and planetary characteristics, and the like. It was also boldly and repeatedly noted that the system was a restricted area and absolutely no contact or incursion was permitted, except by Imperial officials. The penalty for disobeying that restriction was life imprisonment. 'Harsh!' Warren thought every time he read it, but he was glad because it helped protect Earth.

Warren then checked Earth's current calendar date. It was January 2. 'Huh, my birthday's coming up.' Then he thought back over the last year and how quickly it had gone by, and then how fast the last five years had passed. 'Another year and what do you have to show for it?' he asked himself. 'How much longer do I put my life on hold for Ztar? It's been over five _years_!' He shook his head. Some things are best not thought about too much. The lost of five years to the alien ruler was one of them. 'Nothing to be done about it,' with a mental shake of the head.

Then he caught himself. 'What do I have to _show_ for it? Only the transformation of a cruel and sadistic tyrant into a gentle and compassionate ruler is all. Come on, Worthington, give yourself a little credit,' he reprimanded himself. Yet it was so hard for him to feel good about his accomplishments. Would that ever change? Would that voice inside that reminded him of past transgressions ever be silenced?

'It won't if you don't start thinking about yourself differently,' he told himself. He recalled Ztar's attempts to boost his self-image and smiled. 'The man has _so_ changed. I should treat myself for my birthday for my success with Ztar. Something just for me, but what?' An appropriate gift eluded him, but he promised himself he'd think on it.

### --- ###

Jharda looked at the man who had just made the most incredible love to her. It was nothing like she'd ever experienced before. Then she laughed mentally. 'You said that each of the previous three times!' she pointed out to herself. Intense, passionate, her every need fulfilled almost before she knew of it. Yet it did not surprise. The man was a telepath and an empath and he used those talents freely. If he had had those abilities during their first relationship, she doubted she would have ever been able to leave him.

She gently brushed her hand through his thick hair and smiled. "You're amazing."

"It's all in the inspiration," he replied, running his fingertips over her breasts and stomach, delighting that the small thing made Jharda catch her breath.

Jharda wanted to love Ztar without reservation, but she still held onto that last piece of her heart. Archangel stood between them and she felt his presence in their bed. She kept reminding herself of imperial tradition and the Emperor's right to claim multiple partners. Knowing that made it no less difficult to think of Ztar making love to the human while also bedding and saying he loved her.

Yet she saw hope. She knew from what Ztar had said that Archangel may leave once the government transition was complete. At the same time, Jharda knew Ztar did not want the human to go. It seemed part of Ztar held onto that relationship out of perhaps a habitual need. She saw no such need in Ztar. He was strong and confident. To be truthful, though, she knew of his past problems with bedmates and his reputation for burning through them at an alarming rate. Naturally, she had never pried as to the reasons. Then Archangel came along five standard years ago and all that changed. Ztar changed, too, she realized in hindsight. He had become more compassionate. Obviously, Archangel had been as good for Ztar as the Emperor had said during his last visit.

The big question was could Jharda be happy sharing the man she was growing to love more deeply each visit? She didn't know. What she did know is she shouldn't ask her question, but she would anyway. "Does Archangel inspire you as much?"

Ztar blinked at the question. So blunt! The question was a veritable minefield. "Jharda, it would be improper of me to answer that. You understand, don't you?"

She nodded. Of course she did. It was impolite to ask. Perhaps another question. "Would you answer something else for me then? Will it ever be just the two of us?"

Ztar had known the question would come. Jharda had eluded to it their last tryst. He remembered Sukja's words from shortly after Ztar had taken Archangel from Earth. "Never lie to Archangel. More than anything, he needs to know he can believe what you say. And you need to know he believes you." They were wise words then and they were wise now.

"I believe that time will come, Jharda. I just don't know when," he answered honestly.

Ztar sat up to lean back on the cushioned headboard of Jharda's large bed, taking her hand in his. She rolled onto his lap and looked up into his eyes.

"Why do you hold to him so tightly?"

Her eyes were so full of wondering, Ztar noted. No emotions of anger or irritation or even jealousy. She truly wanted to know. Ztar stroked her hair and considered his answer. A year ago, it would have been easier to answer. Archangel was filling a void in his soul. The void seemed to have nearly vanished, filled almost to the brim with Archangel's healing presence. What indeed was keeping him from letting go?

"I'm uncertain how to answer that, Jharda, without causing you hurt. The two of you are different and make me feel whole in different ways."

She was watching him carefully, closely and seemed to be measuring every word. "Do you need him?"

Ztar contemplated. That question's answer was what he was trying to hide from Archangel; or maybe more accurately, from himself. "I want him, but need him? I don't know…perhaps. Yet perhaps I don't. I can't that answer with certainty unless he leaves. Does that make sense?"

She nodded. "_When_ you let him go, what do you hope for him?" She laid her cheek against Ztar's chest and waited for the answer.

Her slight emphasis on 'when' he did not miss. "I wish him to happy and safe. I want him to remember me with fondness."

They said no more words for many moments, both lost in thought, Ztar stroking his lover's hair. Jharda then rose up and repositioned herself on his lap, knees to either side of Ztar's thighs. He looked at in her naked beauty and once again thanked the gods that she was his private life once again.

Jharda let her eyes run over the handsome, Turzent face that had swept her away twice in a lifetime. "I want you to remember our time together with fondness also, my Emperor," she said with a twinkle in her eyes. She'd let the conversation end for now and not push Ztar too hard regarding Archangel. In the end, though, she wanted her lover all to herself. Jharda leaned in to take Ztar's mouth in an erotic kiss and aroused the passion once again.

### --- ###

Xavier viewed the comlink message with curiosity. It was from Ztar's aide, the man named Sukja that Warren had mentioned on numerous occasions. The alien wanted a short list of items gathered for Warren – jeans, t-shirts, and any of his favorite food stuffs that Charles would recommend. A courier would pick up the items in three days. The message ended with Sukja asking that the request be kept secret from Warren. Very interesting indeed.

### --- ###

"And so the unrest on Mygra is easing?"

Gtar-Cro gestured tentative agreement. "We believe it is more than a lull in activity. The extremists seem to have lost some of their appeal with the recent bombing that killed the children. Myrundra's address to the Mygra people was exceptional. She apparently struck a cord in her depiction of a peaceful and prosperous future for the children of Mygra. That could be our rallying point – and the timing may finally right, as well. The people appear to be growing tired of the turmoil."

Ztar nodded. He'd listened enthralled as his Head of Planetary Relations gave her speech. She spoke with passion, hope, and determination and somehow transferred her vision to those listening. It was a brilliant appeal for peace to the Mygran populace.

"We must do all we can to reinforce Jharda's work. I will speak with the rest of the court on tangible rewards to the system for continued movement away from violence. And Mennisa? What is the latest?"

Gtar-Cro looked slightly less pleased at the mention of the star system that had declared itself independent from the empire. "Officially, they continue to insist Mennisa is a free system. As you ordered, the noninterference status remains in effect. The system has been quarantined and no one allowed to enter their space for trading purposes or otherwise. Our border patrols are on heightened alert along the Commonwealth/Turzent boundary, but thus far, the Commonwealth has not responded to Mennisa's pleas for assistance."

Ztar sat back in his chair. "Commonwealth diplomats say they have no interest in Mennisa, but that has not been the case in the past. We know they stirred up trouble just a few months ago. What does your latest intel reveal?"

"It now echoes what you've been told diplomatically. It seems they have growing problems elsewhere and don't wish to cause increased tensions with us over Mennisa. Recent changes in their government may be part of that sudden disinterest."

"Then we will choose to believe their declared intentions, but continue to verify through your sources."

"You wish us to continue the quarantine?"

"Yes, but we must proceed with caution. I don't want the Mennisans to view these actions as punitive. Diplomatically, we will continue to stress the Empire is acting as they have demanded, and that we are treating them no differently than any other non-imperial world. They must come to us to establish formal diplomatic relations. Then and only then will I consider allowing them to travel within our borders and trade with member systems. My hope is they will come to realize the benefits of imperial membership – open trade, protection, and freedom of movement – and rejoin willingly."

Gtar-Cro gave a single nod in acknowledgement. "The situation will soon become quite…uncomfortable for the population. There are already widespread shortages, both food and otherwise. It has been several generations since their society has had to survive on their own resources alone."

"Then my point will be made quite quickly."

"Intelligence reports indicate some within their government are already suggesting their declaration of independence may have been rash. Certain well-known media commentators are beginning to question their government's decision as well."

"The movement to rejoin the Empire needs to come from the people. They must want it. If they do not, there will never be peace."

"MI will do all it can to encourage that movement."

"As will our diplomats. Subtly though – do not manufacture or maneuver. I want no one to be able to point to us and say truthfully that we manipulated their people or leaders into coming to us. But we will reward and welcome appropriate overtures. In essence, the same strategy as Mygra."

Gtar-Cro leaned back from his screen and gave Ztar an odd look. "Our empire has become quite tolerant. I remember well a time when such rebellious behavior would have met with a very different response."

Ztar grinned sarcastically. "Are you saying I'm growing soft in my old age?"

"I would not say soft, my Emperor. You have grown wiser. You now see options other than force. Options that were once not considered worth the time and patience."

Ztar sensed something and leaned toward his PI screen. "Do you approve or is my General concerned about the change in tactics?"

"I will be truthful as I always am. I support your approach. However, there are those who feel our sword is dulling and worry about unintended consequences." Gtar-Cro stopped there and elaborated no further.

The revelation was worrisome. The Emperor stood and moved away from his desk, but stayed within Gtar-Cro's comm view. Sometimes pacing helped him walk through the issues. Ztar considered the information carefully. Who was questioning him and why? Did they believe he was leading the empire down too submissive a path? _Was_ he being tolerant beyond what was wise? How were the other worlds within their borders interpreting his course of action with Mennisa and Mygra? Would some of those worlds see an opportunity to press for their own independence? Then he looked beyond imperial borders to enemies known and as yet unknown. What messages were his decisions sending to them? Then he looked to the enemy within – the Etagllot. How were they viewing his "new" empire?

He kept coming back to why he had chosen a new path and its underlying philosophy. Ztar wanted something that would endure well beyond him and his court. He wanted a unified empire that people wish to live within, not fight to break free from. You cannot create that using force and intimidation. To be sustainable for the long-term, imperial membership must be willingly and eagerly accepted.

It was a long couple of minutes before he spoke again, the General wisely giving him the time in silence for his internal deliberations. "Our sword is not dulling, General. It is simply aimed in another direction. I will not hold it to the throat of our own people. As a wise person once told me, what it took to build our empire is not what it will take for it to endure. Our sword will remain sharp, but it will be pointed at enemies without that threaten to destroy what we have created. They will quickly discover how sharp our blade remains. Our own people, whether they are content or temporarily disenchanted, will not feel our extended blade. Instead, they will see our extended hand."

He moved back to his desk and stood in front of the PI studying Gtar-Cro for reaction. At first there was no change in the expression of the man practiced in not revealing his thoughts. Then a look that Ztar could only describe as satisfaction spread across his old friend's face as the General eased toward the screen.

"Well spoken, my Emperor. You have given me what I need to respond to the voices of concern."

Ztar sat. "I trust that should these voices become too loud, you will inform me."

"Of course. For now, they are of muted tone."

"Muted and distant or close at hand?" It was obvious Gtar-Cro didn't yet wish to reveal names.

"Emperor, those closest to you remain unquestionably devoted to the course you've put us on. You need not worry on that point."

Ztar nodded. That was reassuring. He'd leave the General his secrets and confidences. "Any progress on the Etagllot investigation?" he inquired, moving on to other concerns.

"We obtained numerous small leads from the Hydeera prisoners, but nothing significant has come of those as yet. They are unable to explain why the others had evacuated the facility earlier, only that they had. Hercjell was among them. It was an orderly departure, nothing hurried or otherwise alarming to those left behind."

"Any indications that we have a spy amongst us?"

Gtar-Cro shook his head. "Our telepaths found nothing. That doesn't mean a highly skilled Etagllot telepath didn't pick the knowledge out from someone's mind without their awareness despite our sensitivity training."

"Some people are better at detecting mental intrusion than others, even with training." Ztar paused as his thoughts turned to the mystery telepath. "Have you learned anything more about the one you suspect is both a highly-advanced telepath and telekinetic assassin?" Even the idea of such as individual filled Ztar with dread.

"Not as yet. If that individual truly exists, it may be nearly impossible to track him down. At this juncture, we don't have so much as a vague lead to point us in a direction," Gtar-Cro explained, his unease telegraphed through the comlink.

"Stay at it. Meanwhile, the Par-Sen continue to push for joining the empire. I have been holding them off out of concern about their Etagllot entanglements. I do not wish to invite the predator in the door."

Gtar-Cro gestured firm agreement. "That is exactly my worry. I strongly support delaying until the Par-Sen rid themselves of that threat. Perhaps delay will motivate their government to step up the internal investigation."

Bringing his hands together and resting his arms on the desk, Ztar considered the pros and cons of continued involvement with that star system. "Do we have the resources to help them with that task?"

Gtar-Cro didn't answer immediately. When he did, the man looked determined. "If assisting the Par-Sen means a safer empire, then we must find the resources. In my opinion, ridding the Par-Sen system is worth the investment as long as they are committed to the rousting. If not, we should withdraw support and focus our resources here."

Ztar moved the game pieces in his mind, using what they knew of the Etagllot entrenchment in Par-Sen government and non-government sectors against the potential gains and losses of their inclusion in the empire. So many variables, such limited information. No clear outcomes could be predicted. Yet an opportunity to eliminate the enemy at the gates was tempting. "We will offer assistance quietly, unofficially, and then let the Par-Sen make the next move. I will not invite them into the empire until we can verify the Etagllot have been eliminated."

The General looked pleased with the decision. "Very good, Emperor. MI will make certain our contacts there understand our willingness."

Ztar nodded. "No other pressing business for today, General?"

"No, my Emperor."

Ztar relaxed back into his chair. "Then I'd like to hear how your son is growing," he requested with a wide smile. Ztar knew Gtar-Cro would not be able to resist a chance to speak of his pride and joy.

### --- ###

Warren sat with Moit'de in the master gardener's small, greenhouse office. Their friendship was important to Warren and he found opportunities to spend time with the native Sat'reyan when their schedules allowed. Today they did.

"Not to talk too much business, but the new senior gardener is working out well?" Warren asked as they settled at the small table.

A large smile crossed the gentle face. "Yes! He better with plants than most. Good with staff. Liked well."

"Happy to hear it. Ruegzter seemed a good fit right away at the interviews."

"Good decision we made."

Moit'de's enthusiasm over his newest staff member was obvious. One more issue resolved in a never-ending list of challenges to be handled in overseeing a royal residence.

The Sat'reyan looked up from his food. "News from Earth friends?" he asked.

"Nothing new – same problems, different week. I still worry about exactly what may happen when Earth transitions under the new government. My fear is that humans aren't ready to become a full member of the Empire. I hope Ztar and his advisors listen to the Professor and put Earth on the hands-off list."

"Your Xavier be as family, yes? Others, too?"

"The X-men are my family, Moit'de. I'm not close to any real family members, except perhaps one," he answered after a sip of water. "What about yours? Where's your family?" Warren asked then took a bite of the sandwich-like lunch entrée he had specifically requested from the Chef Delme's kitchen for this occasion. It marked the first time Warren asked about Moit'de's family.

"Some on Sat'rey. Others like seeds in wind."

"Do you see any of them often?" As Warren asked an odd expression crossed the gardener's face that Warren didn't quite know how to read. Sadness? Regret? Longing?

"My life at palace," Moit'de replied vaguely.

Warren took that as a no. Should he press further? Would Moit'de be offended? Perhaps asking questions about family was considered rude in Moit'de culture. "Was it impolite of me to ask you that?"

Moit'de cocked his head and looked Warren in the eyes. "No, Archangel. No offense in question. Pain in answer."

Warren wasn't sure if that was an invitation to continue or a gentle warning to let the topic go. Rather than assume, he'd ask for clarification. "Do you want to talk about them?"

Moit'de actually broke their gaze and looked down at his lunch, something the gardener did rarely. 'Must be a very tender subject,' Warren concluded.

"Another time, friend Archangel."

Warren simply nodded. "I could use some of your wisdom, Moit'de, if you're willing," he said changing the subject.

The Sat'reyan's head came back up with perhaps a look of gratitude in the eyes. "Always."

"As usual, it's about our Emperor and as usual, if it makes you uncomfortable, just say so." With his routine warning in place, Warren continued when Moit'de did not object. "Something's going on with him. He's traveled off-world several times the past month and he's vague about where and why. Something's amiss. I can't put a finger on it, but he's different."

"How different?"

Warren grappled to put into words something he only felt. "It's more a feeling than anything he's said or done. It's like he's…distant. No, that's not it. He's less…_something_. God, Moit'de, I'm just not sure how to describe it."

Moit'de laid down his sandwich and watched Warren intently. "Emperor growing strong?"

With those three words everything seemed to click. "That may be it. He's less needful – that's it I think. He's changing again."

"That good?"

Warren nodded. "Yes, if correct. Perhaps he's growing strong enough for me to go." A lump suddenly formed in Warren's throat. 'What's _this_, Worthington?'

"Emperor pulling away?" Moit'de asked softly.

"Perhaps. I know he and Jharda used to be a couple. He told me he loved her once." The lump grew larger. He swallowed hard. "Maybe those feelings have been rekindled. That could explain the vague trips."

The gardener sat without speaking, his eyes and body language saying what he did not vocalize. Warren was an excellent reader of body language.

"You're thinking what I'm suspecting, aren't you? You think they're a couple again?" Warren asked, struggling to keep his voice stead. Suddenly, he had no more interest in food and set his utensil down. It was what he knew in his heart, but hadn't admitted to himself until now.

"Your heart say that?"

Warren looked down at the half-full plate. "Yes. I think they are having an affair."

"How Archangel feel?"

Warren knew what he should say, what he should feel – that he was happy that Ztar had perhaps found someone else. That Warren could leave if it was true and the Emperor would be okay. But it wasn't what his heart wanted to say. His throat constricted and he blinked. Warren faced what he didn't want to see and what he didn't want to admit. The thought of Ztar cheating on him hurt.

He took a deep breath before speaking. "It's all confused. I'm not sure how I feel."

Moit'de looked at him thoughtfully before speaking. "Archangel sacrifice much. Work hard to help Ztar heal, to grow strong, let go. Much of you go in that. Heart in conflict, no surprise."

Warren couldn't speak for many moments as he struggled to rein emotions that were surprising in their intensity. He remembered his words to Ztar a few weeks ago. 'Love happens or doesn't, Ztar. I want to you keep trying,' he'd told the Turzent. Had that advice actual worked? Had the Emperor somehow in someway finally broken down the last wall surrounding Warren's heart? 'No, you can't love Ztar – not that way,' he reminded himself.

"You're right," he finally responded. "I've put so much time and effort into Ztar, it makes sense that I feel sad at the end of that mission. The post-battle comedown, as they say. That's got to be it."

"Perhaps, friend Archangel." Moit'de let him have the out.

Warren took a drink of water to loosen the tightness in his throat, but it was only partially successful. He let their brief conversation settle. Once again, Moit'de proved a skilled listener and did not fill the silence with needless words. As Warren took inventory of his emotions, he still wasn't certain how to label them. Comedown? Love? Something else?

"I'm going to see how it goes for a while longer," he decided aloud. "I don't want to make any rash decisions and then have everything blow up because I was wrong. Maybe the trips are exactly what Ztar says they are."

"Some things best not forced," the gardener offered. "Eulas like that. If blooms forced, plant die. Not ready until ready. You know when."

Warren took another drink of water and noticed a slight tremor in his hand. "I always thought I would." But now he wasn't so convinced. Would the feelings he didn't want cloud his judgment?

"When Emperor ready, you ready?" Moit'de asked almost seeming to have read Warren's mind.

Warren studied the alien face. How was it that this new friend of another species seemed to know him better than nearly anyone else in Warren's life? Better perhaps than people he'd known since he was a teenager. And how was it Warren felt he could be open with his man when he rarely opened up to anyone? Between Moit'de and Atichi, he found himself book-ended by two aliens who had come to understand him with more insight than nearly anyone else in his life. Maybe it was because they _were_ non-human and viewed him without all the preconceptions.

When Warren remained silent, Moit'de spoke again, obviously deciding not to hold his tongue this time. "You do what must. Friend Archangel very strong." The Sat'reyan's vote of confidence came with an encouraging smile. Moit'de then gestured to their unfinished lunch. "Now we eat. Archangel need food to stay strong," he ordered with a twinkle in the eyes.

Warren chuckled, and they finished their meal talking of much less delicate subjects.

### --- ###

He glanced at Ztar yet again. The man was acting weird – it was the only way Warren could describe it. The Turzent seemed on edge or nervous or something ever since they got up that morning. Now as they headed toward the largest conference room in the palace, Ztar's oddness seemed to increase dramatically. The Emperor had explained they were meeting with Gtar-Cro regarding the Etagllot investigation.

Sukja had overwritten an entry on Ztar's calendar for afternoon at Niat's retreat house with today's meeting. When Warren attempted to review the new entry, it was blocked, indicating a higher security clearance than his was required. Was the news that bad? It might explain the Emperor's strange behavior. As they drew closer to the conference room, Warren felt his anxiety rising.

Ztar palmed the door control and stepped back to let Warren enter first. Warren hesitated – it was against protocol to walk ahead of the Emperor. Ztar took his arm and steered him through the door.

"Surprise!!" a chorus of voices cried out, filled with glee.

Warren blinked – twice. 'What on Earth?!' He looked around – Sukja, Atichi, Niat, Splythe, Delme, Moit'de, Lar, Gragne, Gtar-Cro, even Rja were all there, decked out in formal dress and party hats of all things. If he wasn't so shocked, he would have laughed at the sight. The room was adorned with festive decorations and flowers, and he caught a glimpse of a table behind the party givers that was filled with food and packages.

Warren turned to Ztar who couldn't have smiled any wider without hurting something. "What's this all about?" he asked perplexed.

Everyone gathered around him. "Happy birthday!" Atichi was the first to say with a huge smile. The others followed suit greeting him with the familiar message.

"My _birthday_?" Warren looked at the people surrounding him. "How? Who?"

Sukja handed Warren a glass of sanui, grinning like the proverbial Cheshire cat. "It was Ztar's idea. A little research and we found your customs regarding birthdays."

"And then Sukja commed me and we got started," Atichi jumped in exuding excitement. "I haven't so much fun planning a gathering in a long time. Decorations, gifts, and the hats!" She touched the top of her pointed cap and giggled. "You always wear these at birthday celebrations?" she asked. Then she handed Ztar his hat and motioned him to put it on.

Warren looked around at the aliens all with their version of the conical party hats and couldn't hold the laughter in any longer. The sight was just too comical, especially the General and Ztar. But he wouldn't spoil their fun by explaining the hats were usually reserved for children's parties.

"Only at the best of birthday parties," he said instead. That made everyone smile even more. "You were all in on this?"

All heads and/or hands indicated the affirmative.

"Sukja got Gtar-Cro's office to find information on birthday customs for your territory on Earth. He was very helpful!" Atichi continued, flashing a grin at the General, almost seeming to be unable to contain her thrill of it all. "Then Niat, Splythe, and Delme took care of the food and I got the hats made and found the decorations. Sukja took care of drinks and made sure Ztar's schedule was clear."

"The highly classified meeting today!" Warren declared and everyone laughed.

"Moit'de handled the flowers, of course," Ztar added. "And Rja and her staff set up the room."

Lar stepped up. "Don't forget me and Gragne! We had the most important job of all," the head of palace security declared with a laugh and mock bravado.

Atichi turned quickly to the head of security. "Hush now! We're not ready for that yet," she quieted in friendly chastising. Lar grinned sheepishly. "But the best part is that it was all to be a secret. What fun customs you have!" she proclaimed turning again to Warren.

"Come now, Archangel, we've food and drink to enjoy," Ztar said pulling Warren's arm to head him toward the table.

"My god, there's enough food here for 50 people!" Warren exclaimed at the spread.

"But is it enough to fill _you_ up is the question!" Delme jibed with a hearty laugh.

Warren gave him a friendly glare. "Can't ever pass up an opportunity, right Chef?"

"It wouldn't be right if I did."

With the shock wearing off, Warren looked around at the people in the room that, despite how life with Ztar began, had become important to him. Their efforts to bring a little bit of home to his birthday were immensely touching.

"Thank you, everyone. This was a complete surprise. A _delightful_ surprise!" he said smiling.

"The food awaits," the Chef announced.

Ztar held back and watched as Archangel and the others pursued the food-laden table and began filling their plates. He smiled when Archangel shook a couple of the boxes and said he was trying to guess what each contained. The human laughed and joked with the people whom he'd come to know and had grown attached to, at least that's what the empathic link told Ztar. His companion looked happy and at home amongst those people.

Ztar thought back to the recent Christmas gathering and drew the parallels. The people in Archangel's life on Sat'rey cared deeply enough to have planned the surprise birthday party. At the same time, the human felt connected enough to those same people to have gathered them around him for his Christmas remembrance. How things had changed from when Ztar first returned home to Sat'rey with an unwillingly and angry Archangel in tow. Never in his wildest dreams could Ztar have imagined the scene before him. It was literally a dream made real and it brought tears to his eyes.

As he watched the room's activity, Ztar smiled at remembering how the surprise evolved. When Niat had commed to confirm arrangements for the gathering at his and Splythe's, he mentioned that it coincided this year with the anniversary of their lifemating ceremony. It was then Ztar realized with some guilt that he had not once bothered to learn about, let alone celebrate, any customs important his companion. With Sukja's help, he put into motion plans to correct that oversight. They learned the custom to celebrate a person's birth anniversary was common on Earth. A quick check of Archangel's medical records revealed the date. Such a coincidence! Niat and Splythe were delighted when Sukja informed them that Archangel's birth date and their lifemating anniversary fell on the same correlated Earth/Sat'rey day and gladly forewent previous plans. The afternoon at Niat's and Splythe's was quickly and enthusiastically changed to be a surprise birthday party. Much secrecy and behind the scenes plotting brought the event to fruition.

Just then Archangel glanced over at him. "Ztar, come and get some food before it's all gone!" his companion joked. 'I love you,' he projected out and watched as Archangel's eyes darted back to him with a smile. Ztar still longed to hear those words in return, but settled instead for the warm feelings emanating from Archangel. He walked over to join the group.

"Ztar, how did you find out it was my birthday?" Warren asked as they all sat eating. He knew Ztar didn't read him telepathically any more, so how? Then even before Ztar answered, Warren knew.

"A simple check of your files from Earth."

'The records MI gathered on me when the Accord was being written, of course,' Warren stated the obvious to himself.

As eating wound down, Atichi spoke up. "And now, Archangel, you must open your gifts!"

Everyone got up, grabbed the packages, and moved to a section of the room set up as a sitting area with a special chair at the front for Warren. With everyone gathered around, he opened each gift wrapped with varying degrees of talent. There were new blue jeans and other clothes, some of Warren's food favorites from Earth, a book, specialty coffees, and a box of fancy zante.

As the gift opening ended, Lar looked over at Atichi with expectation. "Now?" he asked with a hint of impatience.

Atichi laughed. "Yes, Lar, now."

Lar and Gragne both faced Warren with looks of mannish pride. "Our part of the plan entailed a classified operation conducted jointly with your friend Charles Xavier," the head of security began. With the mention of Charles' name, Warren stiffened slightly. Charles was involved? The man had no time for anything to do with the Turzents or their empire. "Sukja contacted him, then I arranged for the courier ship to bring the items from Earth here. Gragne hid the contraband – _I_ didn't even know where it was!" Lar said laughing while Gragne looked almost guilty as a silly grin spread across his face. "Sukja was quite clear on the need for utmost secrecy. Charles Xavier was very helpful in securing the gifts. He did well?"

Warren relaxed. Apparently, the Prof had set aside his disdain of the aliens to participate in the surprise. He'd comm Charles later with his thank you. "He did very well. Thank you both for what you did."

The balance of the afternoon was spent eating, talking, and drinking. Several times, Warren caught Ztar's eyes following him. Each time, he felt the feelings and loving thoughts the Emperor sent to him. A couple times, he nearly responded in kind to the I-love-yous. Almost. It was the magic of the drinks and fun he told himself, but a little voice inside retorted, 'Ya, right.'

### --- ###

"_Must_ I go to the Ennovy-Eiram celebration?" Warren was not enthused in the least about trekking half-way across the Empire, attending two days of receptions, dinners, and celebrations, making endless small talk and putting on royal airs. It would just be so much effort.

"I've always attended. It's just a week away – they are expecting us," Ztar countered. He turned to look at Warren as they strode down the hall toward the palace's grand reception hall. "You're all right?" Concern flickered across the Emperor's face.

"I'm fine, just not in the mood for a big shindig. It's just…I'm feeling tapped out to be honest."

The Emperor came to an abrupt halt. Warren stopped quickly and waited for a response.

Ztar studied Archangel for several moments before speaking. The perfection of the face was always deceptive – it tended to mask many things, emotional fatigue included, Ztar realized. Archangel had endured so very much the past two years. Even one of the incidents he lived through could have sent a weaker spirit into an emotional tailspin. Two kidnappings, one including rape and torture, and a near-death; not to mention being ripped from his home and forced to live with Ztar as an unwilling bedmate and full-time companion.

The human had asked for so little since coming into Ztar's life. As Ztar considered it, Archangel rarely asked for anything. In fact, Ztar could recall only two things of consequence that Archangel had requested over the course of their time together – dignity and respect. If Archangel wanted to pass on the gala, it was such a small thing in the larger picture that Ztar would be incredibly cold and callous to deny it.

"My Archangel," he began softly. "You've endured more than most would survive with a strength and grace that puts all others to shame. The strength of your spirit amazes me," he said placing his hand on Archangel's upper arm and squeezing gently. "If you do not feel up to the celebration, we will not attend."

Warren was impressed. Ztar was displaying a depth of compassion and understanding that proved just how far he'd come. "You should go, Ztar. You needn't sit home with me. It's important to the people of Ennovy-Eiram that you are there."

Ztar nearly said he wouldn't attend without a companion, but he didn't wish to place any form of guilt upon the noble human. Before he could respond, Archangel spoke again.

"Why don't you ask Jharda or even Atichi to go with you?" Warren suggested. He was hoping Ztar would choose Jharda – it would be very fitting considering what he suspected, despite his conflicted feelings on that issue.

Ztar was taken aback by the mention of Jharda, yet it made good sense. Jharda at his side may raise questions in the gossip news, but Jharda's office would deal with that quite effectively he was certain. If Ztar's true companion was indisposed, it would make perfect sense to have the only female member of his court act as a last-minute replacement.

"I will consider your suggestion." He gazed deeply into the crystalline-blue eyes that had melted his cold heart over five years earlier. "If you needed something…_anything…_you'd tell me, wouldn't you?"

Warren moved in close to the Emperor. "You'd be the first to know," he said softly. "Thank you for understanding about the party. It means a lot."

Ztar encircled the man he loved with one arm and brushed the handsome face with his other hand. "It took me far too long to realize the importance of that lesson. I am grateful for your patience." Then he leaned down to take his lover's mouth in a gentle, lingering kiss oblivious to the palace staff passing by.

### --- ###

Jharda nearly fell into Ztar's arms as soon as he entered her home. She knew she was behaving like a young girl in love for the first time, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. After Ztar's first visit, Jharda knew she had never stopped loving him. She had only buried the feelings so well she had fooled herself. And each time since that he came to her, she was pulled in deeper. There was no turning back, no escaping, and it thrilled her.

In his strong embrace yet again, she melted into his welcoming kiss and felt her passion flare. Memories flooded her of sex so intense that she had believed the bed would ignite. With each tryst, the passion seemed more powerful. In all her years and all her lovers, no one came close to matching Ztar in the bedchamber. It was true all those years ago, and was even truer now. She recalled fondly the sex was good between them when they were young military officers, but it wasn't _this_ good. Ztar had grown as a lover and his telepathic and empathic abilities were obviously responsible for much of his skill in knowing exactly what to do and when. But it was far more than that. Ztar had a gift and she relished every moment in his arms. He was the perfect bedmate. And he was hers.

Well, partly. There was Archangel. While Jharda tried to convince herself that the Emperor was entitled to as many bedmates as he desired, she still felt the pangs of jealousy. Archangel was beautiful inside and out from what Ztar had said. The Emperor truly loved his companion, but she had hope and between Ztar's visits her mind raced with thoughts of him and her. During his most recent visit and comms, she subtly and gently encouraged him to let the human go.

In her imagination, she saw them building a future together in the new empire they were creating. Ztar needed heirs and Jharda would be all too happy to provide them. She had always wanted children, but the right mate never materialized. Perhaps though, she told herself, someone had but her heart held had out unwittingly for the man she always loved.

The gods had given them a second chance. She would not toss it away. As Ztar swept her up and headed straight for the bedroom, Jharda was on fire from just his kiss and she giggled and wiggled in anticipation. She felt young again and utterly happy.

When the sex was over and they lounged in bed with Ztar's favorite drink, Dison, she decided to broach the question about Archangel and her future with Ztar one more time. Jharda was never one to avoid difficult topics, no matter how uncomfortable. She needed to know Ztar's thoughts on where they were headed as a pairing. If her heart was to be crushed, she wanted it to happen sooner as opposed to later. Jharda snuggled in deeper next to Ztar as they sat against pillows plumped at the headboard of her large bed.

"Ztar, you do understand how deeply I've fallen in love with you?" she said more than asked.

"I hope as deeply as I, Jharda," he replied looking down into her eyes.

She took a breath and said it. "There's still the matter of Archangel."

Ztar knew the issue would keep surfacing. He didn't want to see it as a problem. He loved both Jharda and Archangel. Emperors are entitled to both companions and mates. Not an issue…for him. He was not naïve enough to presume Jharda, or Archangel for that matter, would find the situation quite so acceptable. He sighed gently. Part of him felt she was pressuring him, but the other part understood why and did not hold it against her.

"Jharda, do you wish me to be completely honest about Archangel or to say what you wish to hear?" He wanted no lies or deceptions between him and Jharda and so he gave her the choice on whether or not she could bear the truth.

Jharda knew from the question if she said she wanted truth, that what Ztar would share would likely be difficult to accept. Yet she wanted to understand his love of the human and what role she played in Ztar's picture of their future. She needed truth regardless of how painful.

"I need honesty, Ztar. I promise I will not hate you or Archangel for it," she reassured taking his hand in hers.

"Then I require honesty in return. Ask your questions, Jharda."

Jharda thought Ztar sounded very imperial with that, but she proceeded before she lost her courage. "I would like us to be more than bedmates, Ztar. Imagining a future together gives my heart joy. I want us to be together and to have something lasting. If you don't feel the same, then we should stop now before we are both hurt beyond bearing." Ztar watched her and waited for her to continue. Then she realized she hadn't yet asked a question. "That's what I want, Ztar. What do you want?" she asked and held onto her heart.

Even in profile, she saw his face soften and he turned to her, the dark eyes filled with tenderness. "What I truly want for us, Jharda, is to be lifemates. I want you to bear our children. I want the life I had imagined we'd have together all those years ago. To watch our children grow. I want us to grow old together. To be in love with you until I die. That is what I've always wanted, from that first day I saw you. Life has brought us together a second time, we must not waste the gift."

She kissed his hand and smiled from her very soul. "Then we want the same thing, Ztar, but where does that leave Archangel? You do love him. Only the blind would not see that."

Ztar gathered himself. This was going to be the painful part – the part Jharda wouldn't want to hear. "Archangel is part of me. He's in my soul. I love him. I will always love him. Archangel saved me, Jharda. There is a part of me you never knew, that very few people know existed. It was dark and monstrous. Archangel saved me from myself – he healed me, he healed my soul. I owe him my very life."

Jharda was puzzled. Dark and monstrous? What was Ztar talking about? She had never seen anything but a driven man who was sometimes harsh, who was a conqueror, but yet it was always tempered with reason and honor and a sense of what was just. If it hadn't been, she would never have served him for as long as she had.

"What do you mean?" she asked, sitting up to face him fully.

Ztar risked a brush of Jharda's mind. Was she ready to know what he had been? Would she accept him and still love him knowing the atrocities he'd carried out in the name of personal gratification. Yet he felt she needed to know his journey into, through, and out of the deep, shameful pit he had been in. He placed a hand on her arm and squeezed gently.

"You may not like what I'm about to tell you, but I don't want secrets between us. Just know that when I look back now to what I was, I am horrified. I will never be the person again, this I vow."

And Ztar explained his slide into the darkness and the years spent there and how Archangel, his Esserru, slowly pulled him from the pit, without desiring at first to do so. Ztar spared Jharda nothing as he confessed his cruelty and how he abused his now beloved companion and the companions before. He told her of the terrorist kidnapping and the profound affect that event had in his and Archangel's relationship. And of the ultimate joy he felt when the human decided to remain with him in spite of being set free. He spoke of the revelation he had concerning how the suppressed pain from the augmentation led him to force that same pain upon Archangel. Ztar tried to explain the depth of his love and the intense bond he felt with the human, but found words were inadequate. He cried in the telling from his relived shame, and Jharda held him and comforted him and cried with him. And when the story was done, he saw understanding in her mind and a newfound wonder at the human named Archangel and what he had done for the man she loved. He delved no deeper into her mind, though. She deserved her privacy. He looked at her with expectant eyes.

"I love you, Ztar, perhaps now more than ever. No one can say with certainty that we won't succumb to the darkness until we've faced it. You defeated it and rose up stronger and wiser. I'm proud of you, my love." She kissed him on the cheek and pulled her fingers through his hair.

"I could not have done so without Archangel."

"He is an amazing person. I see why you love him. I owe him much as well as I now have a wonderful man who loves me. What a beautiful soul Archangel is."

Ztar eyes suddenly saddened again and Jharda was concerned. "What is it, Ztar?"

"I wish he felt beautiful, but he does not. Archangel may have healed me, but his own soul remains broken. He sees himself as flawed and tainted, but he's done little to warrant that assessment. It's what others have done to him…forced upon him. Archangel sees those as _his_ wrongs or as deserved punishment for perceived sins. He struggles with a self-loathing that breaks my heart. I contributed to that, Jharda. I used him and was cruel and sought only to satisfy my own needs without care of the cost to him." Tears welled up in his eyes once again. "And still he cares for me, in spite of it all. But the trauma is there, along with all the wounds from others who injured his spirit. We talked once of the hurt I inflicted and he forgave, Jharda. My Archangel forgave me!" Ztar still marveled at that moment. "The talking helped, but not enough. My love is not healing him. I don't know what else to do." He was pleading for an answer.

Jharda thought carefully about the problem. To her it sounded as if Archangel had an image of himself that not based on reality. Of course, she didn't know his past or what he'd done in life, but if Ztar loved him, it couldn't be anything too horrific.

"If what you say is true, then show him his self-perception is wrong. Sometimes we believe our misconceptions are reality, Ztar, and unless someone shows us another way of seeing ourselves, we go on believing that falsehood. Like you showed me. After the bombing, I was seeing myself as something less than I had been and believed everyone saw me in the same light. You showed me how you saw me and I realized that losing a couple body parts did not mean I had changed as a person. I'm still the same Jharda I was before. The soul is still as it was and that's what is important to those who care about us. Help Archangel see himself as you see him. Help him heal and then perhaps you can let him go without regret."

It was so simple now that Jharda said it. So obvious, yet he had missed it. He knew what he needed to do. That would be his gift to his Esserru – perhaps it would help the healer of souls start healing himself. Ztar looked at the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with and his heart filled with love and respect.

"You are wise, Jharda. As wise as you are beautiful!"

She smiled at Ztar and took his hands in hers. "I will be by your side whether or not Archangel is in your life, but from what you shared before, he needs to return home. When you're ready to let him go, I will be there for you to help with the pain. I know part of you will always love Archangel, but I also believe that the best part of you loves me. The part that is whole and healed and ready to move on."

'Archangel needs me to let go,' Ztar said gently into Jharda's mind, his throat too tight to speak aloud.

'I believe he does, my Emperor,' she thought back.

'I'm ready,' Ztar admitted. With the admission, his soul lurched and his breath caught, but he knew it was the truth. He was ready; he only needed to summon the courage to actually let go. Yet there were things that needed to come to conclusion before that, certain issues that must come full circle first. And when the time did come, the pain of release would be fierce; he had no doubts. His love for the human was intense, but he'd journey through the loss and come out whole on the other side. And Jharda would be waiting.

### --- ###

_Next chapter we start wrapping up loose ends. Ztar makes good on his idea to help Warren's own emotional healing, Ztar faces Xavier's probe, and Fjai arrives at Sat'rey – all that in one chapter, unless I make a last minute decision to split it in two. _

_Five chapters to go…_


	15. Chapter 15

_SJS Focus said in his Chapter 14 review, "_Lots of love triangle scenes in this [fourteenth] chapter." _Yes, triangles abound. Or from other perspective, perhaps circles? Many situations in the saga are coming full circle. When I was grappling with a name for the final book, that repeating theme jumped out at me. Events coming full circle to complete a cycle - Circle Complete. It fit. Hope you agree, especially as the book wraps up._

_Change of plans. I decided to split Chapter 15 into two chapters. As I was editing, I realized it was just too long and had a natural breakpoint in the story's rhythm that I had previously overlooked. So, now we have 20 chapters…a nice round number that should not change. _

_In this segment, Warren has a surprise for Ztar, Ztar makes good on a plan for Archangel, Warren and Merryth come to an understanding, and Charles probes Ztar. Still a lot unfolds even with the splitting apart. _

_Thank you to my two constant reviewers, SJS Focus and Winchester-grl44. Without you, I would be very lonely. To my other readers (and I know you're out there), I would love even a word of feedback. Just one little word…a syllable then? How about a single letter??_

_Enjoy. See you next chapter! _

**Chapter 15**

Warren arranged the get-away trip, something he hadn't done before. Ztar and Sukja had always planned their past jaunts. He knew taking the initiative and making the plans himself would please Ztar immensely. According to Sukja, it was good timing. No urgent meetings or other imperial business was scheduled. And Ztar looked like he needed a couple days away. Between the governmental transition, Etagllot, financial woes, and innumerable other imperial problems, the Emperor was strung tight.

Another reason for the time alone was Warren's belief that his stay on Sat'rey was drawing to an end. Ztar was likely finding what he truly needed in Jharda, or so Warren's instincts told him. And while he admitted, begrudgingly, that Ztar's likely relationship with her was hurtful, it was good for Ztar. He needed someone other than Warren – someone who could love him the right way, be an Empress, and give Ztar heirs to continue his legacy. Having someone else already in his life would make Warren's leaving so much easier on the Emperor.

And Ztar had finally given in to Warren's incessant nagging to get micro-scanned for nannites and the test was negative. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. So this would be a reward/celebration trip, too. Warren selected a location on Sat'rey he felt Ztar would enjoy – the Canyons of Vadyss. The canyon wasn't known for its size as much as for the astonishing rock colors and waterfalls. Once again, as was the case months earlier when they escaped to the mountains, one comm call to the best resort in the Canyons and the place was cleared for the Emperor and his companion. Amazing how a popular resort can suddenly become in need of major repairs. The coffers of the Royal Court of Ztar can buy a lot of privacy.

Ztar was thrilled. Warren thought the man would hug the breath completely out of him at the news. "To think you planned this for us!" he had exclaimed in his surprise.

The shuttle settled down on a landing pad adjacent to the main building. Ztar and Warren stepped out and immediately drawn into the restful surroundings. The resort was nestled on the floor of the main canyon, tucked between a sheer rock wall to one side and a small river to the other. The sides of the canyon rose up in a Turzent unit of measure that roughly translated to a half mile if Warren did the math right. What he had read about the Canyons of Vadyss hadn't been exaggerated. It was as if an artist had brushed the rock walls with bright watercolors. Swirls and streaks of orange, red, yellow, green, turquoise, pink, rust, and others made the canyon almost seem like a stage backdrop and not real.

"I've not been here before, Archangel. This is magnificent!" he said taking in the setting.

"Glad you like it."

A Szechaei female approached and spoke once Ztar nodded his acknowledgment. "Welcome to the Canyons of Vadyss and River's Edge Lodge. We are humbled that you chose to stay with us, my Emperor," the female greeted with a deep bow. "My name is Wai and during your stay, my only responsibility will to be ensure you have everything you desire. Shall we begin with a tour?"

Once the tour concluded and they were familiar with layout and services of their bucolic lodgings, Warren suggested they take a walk along the river pathway. Wai had pointed out that the sun was reaching its best angle for accentuating the colorful canyon walls. They grabbed a bottle of Dison and a couple glasses in a pouch before heading out, three elite guard in tow, but at a discrete distance.

Warren was mesmerized by the beauty of the canyon. The sound of the running river, the calls of animals, deeply hued pastel rock, a warm breeze that ruffled their hair and his feathers all came together to form an idyllic setting. At some point, Ztar's hand entwined with his, almost without him noticing he was so captivated by the landscape.

Ztar saw Archangel suddenly look down at their clasped hands and then the blue eyes moved up to take his. They hadn't held hands like this before; it was something new and Ztar realized it just seemed to happen. He smiled at Archangel. The human's thumb rubbed his hand briefly – it was a small thing, but brought joy to Ztar.

They continued to walk, look, and listen along the path. Archangel asked numerous questions that taxed Ztar's scant knowledge of the area and its geological history. Finally, he chuckled. "Archangel, I think we should link you up with someone at the lodge who can satisfy your curiosity!"

"Too many questions?" Warren asked in feigned hurt.

"No, too few answers," Ztar said and then was compelled pulled Archangel in for a kiss. Archangel opened for him and he accepted the invitation, savoring the taste of his lover.

Warren clung to the pouch with the Dison and melted into Ztar's body and kiss. Large hands roamed slowly up his back and then finally took hold of the wings near their base. Immediately, a wave of heat shot through his body. 'God, feels so good,' he said to himself, pushing into the Turzent's firm body. The kiss deepened. Then a wave of another sort swelled up from within. Strong feelings of…what? Belonging? A wanting? A desire to remain with the man gently caressing him? Warren caught himself. 'No, that's just the promise of sex talking,' he corrected himself.

When Ztar finally pulled back, he nipped Archangel's lower lip and then lightly kissed his nose. For a brief moment, he felt something in their empathic connection that was…longing?…but it was gone before Ztar would really put a name to it. Taking Archangel's hand once again into his, they continued their stroll.

That afternoon at the lodge, they enjoyed a delayed lunch that was one of the better meals Warren had had on Sat'rey. "If this is an indication of the quality of the food here, I might have to tell Chef Delme he has a rival," Warren joked.

Ztar smirked. "Trend carefully, my Archangel, with suggestions that Delme is anything less than the best chef on Sat'rey. He tends to be very sensitive in that regard," the Emperor jested in return.

Warren raised his eyebrows at that. "I have a hard time believing Delme is the type to get hurt feelings. Perturbed and indignant, yes. Hurt feelings? Not so sure."

The rest of the afternoon they wiled away roaming the grounds of the lodge and drinking sanui while learning more about the natural history of the canyon and surrounding lands. And that night after another delectable meal, Ztar made love to his companion, leisurely and gently, not wanting it to end. Even after the pinnacle of sex had been reached, he continued to caress and explore his lover's body until sleep could no longer be denied.

"You make me happy beyond what I ever dreamed I could be," were Ztar's last words before he drifted off.

Warren hung on to wakefulness long enough to know Ztar had fallen soundly to sleep. He raked his fingers through the black-crimson hair. "What are you doing to me?" he whispered aloud to the sleeping Turzent, remembering the flash of feelings on the river pathway. Then he let himself slip into slumber.

###

'Fly to me, my Archangel. Indulge your Emperor,' he sent to the human as Ztar watched him approach down the canyon.

With an ever so slight change in wing angle, Warren adjusted his flight path. Landing directly in front of someone could often be tricky, not so much for Warren but for the other person. The backwash and flapping wings could easily knock someone off their feet. But Ztar was large and strong, so that likely wouldn't happen. He swung his legs down just feet ahead of Ztar and stretch out his hands to Ztar's upraised arms. Ztar encircled Warren's waist with his hands and pulled Warren to him. His mind flashed back to Trapia years ago when Ztar did the same thing. That hadn't ended well, with Ztar losing control of himself shortly thereafter. That man didn't exist anymore and Warren allowed himself to be plucked from the air without fear. Unlike Trapia, he smiled at the man capturing him.

Ztar pulled Archangel to his chest as wind and feathers swirled around him. He guided the lithe frame down his chest. Trapia instantly came to mind. The memory was like that of someone else. Who was the cruel stranger who had wanted to brutally take Archangel after that excursion? Ztar felt so disconnected from that man it was hard to accept it had been him.

"It's a do-over, Ztar," Warren said sensing Ztar was thinking about the same thing he was.

"A do-over?"

"We just did Trapia the right way. We did it over again. A do-over."

Ztar contemplated for a moment as he let Archangel's feet touch the ground. "A do-over. I like that. There are many things I'd like to do over with you."

Warren looked up into the Turzent's face that reflected remorse. "Everything you've done since I came to Sat'rey has been a do-over Ztar. Not much left to fix!" he said, throwing in a light laugh for good measure. He didn't want to dampen the mood any more than it had. "There is one thing _I'd_ like to do over, if you're game."

Ztar looked at him inquisitively. "What could you possible have done that needs to be redone?"

"Our little flight on Ymoz. That was a disastrous first flight for you. I'd like to try again under normal gravity."

Ztar stepped back in surprise. "You mean take me up in the air?"

Warren wanted to do this. To give Ztar a taste of flying from the direct experience, not just telepathically or empathically. "If you're not too scared that is," he taunted with a grin.

Ztar gave Archangel a mock suspicious eye. "I don't have to jump off any cliffs, do I?" Archangel laughed again and the sound filled him with delight. So very much had changed since Trapia!

"No cliffs, I promise. With or without Ymoz's stronger gravity, you're a big guy. I'm pretty certain I can carry you, but we won't be doing anything fancy – just a nice, smooth ride. Are you game?"

Ztar nodded. He had no idea how Archangel was going to pull it off, but he trusted his companion unequivocally. If Archangel said he could carry Ztar, he could. Archangel was much stronger than his almost delicate frame would lead you to believe.

Warren had two choices for a take-off with a passenger – dead start or flying start. Lifting the large Turzent from a dead start likely wasn't going to work, so choice two it was. "I'll need to grab you while already airborne. It could get a little rough, but it _usually_ works." He flashed a mischievous grin at the 'usually' and watched as Ztar's eyes widened ever so slightly. "Just stand still and let me do the maneuvering. Stay loose – don't tense up. And don't struggle or try to rebalance yourself too soon after I grab you or we could crash. Got it?"

Ztar stood as Archangel took to the air and watched as he swung around to head back. 'By the gods…!' was the only thought he had as Archangel hurtled toward him from slightly behind and to the side. In a move so quick that Ztar hardly saw, Archangel swept him up, one arm behind his back and one behind his knees. The sudden impact nearly took his breath away, but it wasn't as forceful as Ztar had feared. Then his stomach dropped out as Archangel pulled up sharply, the ground rapidly falling away. Ztar stayed stock still in the human's grip. So far, so good. They hadn't crashed.

Ztar was heavy – no two ways about it and he put all of his considerable strength to work to gain altitude. Warren wanted to quickly put as much distance between them and the ground as he could. Grabbing as much air as possible, he pulled up to avoid obstacles that could snag them as he almost lumbered through the air. Once they cleared the tall tree shrubs and rocks, he breathed a silent sigh of relief. Only open skies beckoned. He slowed their rate of ascent to give his passenger a chance to take in the views of the canyon.

"Okay, Ztar. Now you can put your left arm around the back of my neck." To Warren it felt as if Ztar was actually trembling, but the Emperor carefully did as instructed. The grip behind his neck was tight. "Relax Ztar. The tricky part is over. Now just enjoy the ride!"

Ztar's weight forced Warren to make the various wing and body angle adjustments to accommodate the seven-foot, solid Turzent. He flew as slowly as he dared to save Ztar from the worst of the wind, which made flying more difficult. 'Need to take this very easy,' Warren cautioned himself, looking into Ztar's face to watch as his expression change from tense to enthralled.

Ztar forced himself to relax and look around, despite the wind tearing at his eyes. The world looked so different like this, not at all like looking at it through a shuttle window. Higher and higher they flew, out of the canyon and still higher. The air cooled, but Ztar wasn't cold. He was too spellbound to be cold.

"Incredible!" he exclaimed as he watched the canyon fall away below and behind them. Out over the lush landscape they flew, wild and free. His heart sang as the wonder took hold. He watched in rapt attention as the world slid by beneath them, feeling light, unencumbered. All his troubles were down there, planet-bound. Their heaviness couldn't reach him up here. Up here, there was only the sky and the sun and joyful freedom! Was this how it was every time for the human? He felt a tear get whipped away by the wind.

"How's the ride?" Warren asked his passenger. Ztar had been amazingly quiet. Usually first-time flyers were either scared shitless or babbling about how wonderful it was.

"I love you," Ztar replied above the roar of the wind. It was the only thing he could think to say. Words were inadequate to describe what he was feeling about flying.

'Yep, he's caught up in it!' Warren thought with a wide smile.

Ztar continued to marvel at the sights and sensations. He listened to the rhythmic beating of the wings, felt Archangel's powerful muscles working to sustain their flight, and the roar of the wind in his ears as it almost stung his skin. He reveled in the unique sensation of defying gravity without any mechanical devices. It was magical and wondrous and he never wanted it to end.

They rode the winds with few words until Warren's arms were tired from holding Ztar and he began spiraling down.

"I suppose we must land at some point," Ztar stated with sadness.

Warren chuckled. "Unfortunately, yes. But before we do, I'd like to thank you for choosing Worthington Airlines where we make flying fun!"

Ztar laughed. He remained quiet, though, as Archangel focused on landing. He didn't care to repeat the crashing landing on Ymoz. Once safely on the ground, Ztar found his legs weren't quite so steady and he held onto Archangel for a few moments as he recovered. He took that opportunity to express his gratitude. "Thank you, Archangel, for that gift. I will cherish it always."

"You're welcome," Warren glanced up to the top of the canyon. Sunlight had long left the canyon and the afternoon was drawing to an end. "We probably should head back."

Ztar 'pathed the guards and the entourage returned to the lodge.

### --- ###

The tanquer root tea always tasted better when Atichi made it. Somehow, it was fuller, richer. He breathed in the calming scent deeply before taking a sip. "This hits the spot on a cold day," he complimented. It _was_ a cold day in Yaunra – windy and damp; decidedly not weather he enjoyed. Sukja much preferred Sat'rey's summers, even with its intense heat. Likely, it was a biological predisposition since the region he called home on Ozjaer was hot and arid.

"And how is life at the palace?"

He'd come for a visit with an old friend while Ztar and Archangel were visiting the Canyons of Vadyss. Of late, he felt a need to talk with her more. People around him were changing – the emperor, Archangel, Jharda, even housemaster Rja – and he found it somewhat disconcerting. Atichi was unchanging and he sought her steadiness.

He hesitated before answering and she gave him an encouraging look as if sensing he was troubled. "Evolving."

She held her cup in both hands and watched his face. "In what way?"

'Where to begin? How much to reveal?' He sighed deeply, feeling the full impact of what was transpiring within those walls. "What I share with you as always must never be spoken of," he began in his customary warning. He needn't say it any more after all the years, but it was habit and Atichi understood that. She nodded. "The Emperor's healing journey is coming to conclusion."

"This is good news!" Atichi offered.

Sukja gestured agreement. "Indeed, but it comes with changes and difficult decisions."

Atichi gazed at him knowingly, taking in the soothing scent of the hot beverage before a sip. "Archangel."

"But not for the reason you may think. Jharda and Ztar are a couple once again."

She stopped in mid-motion. "Really?!"

"Yes. The relationship has been growing since shortly after the bombing. I believe nearly losing Jharda reawakened feelings he had believed were long past."

"Does Archangel know?"

"No, at least we don't believe so. He hasn't said anything and his behavior toward the Emperor hasn't changed. Not in that way." He let the unspoken hang knowing Atichi would catch it.

"In what way _has_ it?"

"Ztar feels perhaps Archangel is growing more…attached."

Atichi nodded, which surprised Sukja. "I suspected as much. In fact, he and I discussed Ztar during his last visit. Though Archangel wasn't ready to admit that yet, even to himself."

"And so we have the Emperor beginning to pull away and Archangel drawing closer. Who would have believed this possible a year ago?"

Atichi took another quick sip. "Or even a few months ago? A reversal of roles," she pointed out the obvious, setting the cup down and reaching for a one of the sweet treats sitting between them. "I am happy to hear our Emperor is redirecting his affections. Jharda can provide him heirs."

"Agreed. I do worry about him actually being able to let go of Archangel. Archangel has become ingrained in Ztar. Sometimes no matter how ready we are to move on, inertia can prevent it. That will not be easily overcome."

"But he has Jharda. Perhaps she will provide the incentive."

Sukja nodded. It was possible, but he remembered how Ztar described his deep connection with Archangel and wondered if Jharda would indeed be incentive enough. "Ztar wants both at the moment."

Atichi's looked worried with that. "I can't imagine anyone but Ztar would see that as a viable option. That tradition may have seen its day pass."

"He understands intellectually, but his heart wants both. I remain hopeful he will move beyond the notion soon."

"Where does all this leave Archangel?" she asked. "He has given so much of himself to the Emperor. Too much perhaps," Atichi added with concern in her tone.

"I wish I knew. He rarely talks with me regarding Ztar any more. His confidences are elsewhere," Sukja smiled gently at Atichi knowing Archangel had turned to her and Moit'de more and more the past year.

"He is strong, Sukja. He will do what needs to be done, just as he always has."

"If you knew the answer, why did you ask the question?" he caught her.

"For your perspective. Do you agree with my assessment?"

Sukja nodded. "I do. Archangel is one of the strongest people I've had ever met. If he was not, he would never have survived the last five-plus years."

"So we have determined that Ztar is letting go and although Archangel may be growing more attached to Ztar, he will go when the time comes."

"In theory, yes. In reality, time will show us if we are as wise as you and I would like to believe."

Atichi leaned back and gazed warmly at her friend. "In the matters of the heart, wisdom is often lost."

Sukja chuckled. "So very true!"

"The key may be where Archangel's heart lies."

"Or the key may be in Jharda Myrundra's will. She is not to be underestimated."

It was Atichi's turn to laugh. "That is a woman who always knows exactly what she wants and how to obtain it."

Sukja looked admiringly at Atichi. "She's not the only one."

His fellow Ozjaerian suddenly appeared embarrassed and somewhat sad at the same time. "You flatter me, but life is moving on and I've little to show for myself these past few years. Sometimes it's as if I'm in a holding pattern waiting for something."

Sukja reflected on that for a time, taking a bite of sweet wafer. "In many ways, I feel likewise. Ztar has been the center of my existence for so many years I can't image anything else. He used to guard my time and my actions jealously. That is changing – first with Archangel, especially this last year, and now with Jharda. My role is diminishing in certain respects."

Atichi put her arms on the table and leaned forward. "Perhaps the question shouldn't be what becomes of the Emperor's companion, but instead what becomes of the Emperor's aide."

Sukja sat quietly. The question hit too close to home and uncovered a pain he hadn't quite admitted to. Atichi did not fill the silence, which he almost wished she would. She waited and watched.

"I think the Emperor's aide needs to push through the inertia himself and find a new focus."

"And a new emotional investment," she furthered.

Atichi had an odd expression that he couldn't recall seeing before. "And the aide's dear friend and confidante? What about her holding pattern?"

"She grows restless for something more. She's been waiting a long time."

Sukja's heart suddenly beat faster. Was this going where he thought? "What has she been waiting for?"

Atichi didn't reply at first. She only smiled a smile so full of silent words he knew in an instant. Then she reached her hand across the table and laid it softly on his wrist. "I think the aide knows in his heart what that is."

"Atichi…" was all he could manage as long denied emotions engulfed him.

"You have not been free, Sukja. Technically, yes; but in reality, no. The Emperor has moved past his need of you to be his emotional guide and strength and support. Let Jharda take that role now. You've held it far too long. It is time for Sukja's happiness."

A tear found its way down his face. It was all true. He had put aside so much for the Emperor for so many years. He was confidante, advisor, mentor, healer, protector, and champion for the man he had committed his life to help become his best. Ztar was there or nearly so. The mission had been completed. It was both a joyful realization and a painful ending. It meant Sukja's life was about to be redefined. He grabbed the hand of the woman who had been his steadfast friend through it all. And now, perhaps, she may become more.

"Perhaps you are right." The words were a shaky whisper.

Then Atichi seemed to gather herself as she squeezed his hand. "I love you, Sukja. I always have. I have waited a long time for you, but I'm waiting no more. We are growing older by the day and I will not lose one more to what might be." She paused and took a breath. "I need to know, Sukja, whether you will take what I offer or if I should end the waiting and move on."

Sukja's world stopped in mid-breath. How many times had he wished for this – a hundred, a thousand over the years? He loved her from the moment she opened her front door to him all those long years ago on Ozjaer. Yet circumstance plotted against them at every turn. The time was never right and then the friendship became too precious to jeopardize with selfish desires that would lead only to heartbreak.

He studied her as his heart pounded in a wild blend of fear and excitement. Atichi's face reflected both hope and vulnerability. She was risking everything on this single moment. Atichi was right. The waiting was over. Ztar was whole and likely soon to have a mate. He no longer needed all that Sukja had to give. Ztar was ready to move on. So must Sukja.

He leaned toward her and brushed her cheek with his fingers. "I have loved you forever," he spoke the words his soul had longed to say for more than twenty years. "I gladly take what you are offering, my dearest Atichi."

Then he took her in a kiss that was a dream made real. That night, he made love to the only woman he had ever cherished.

### --- ###

After the lovemaking, Ztar rested on his elbow looking down into Archangel's eyes and he almost told him about Jharda. He hated deception. Ztar had made that mistake once before and now he was repeating the behavior. He feared so greatly Archangel's reaction. 'I don't want to loose you,' he thought to the human, but didn't project it. 'I want you both.' Ztar knew, though, that having both Jharda and Archangel in his life would never be. Archangel would see his relationship with Jharda for the final sign that it was. Ztar wanted Archangel, desperately and intensely, but need him? No. And Archangel had been very clear – when that time came, he would leave.

Jharda wise words came to him. "Help him heal and then perhaps you can let him go without regret," she had said.

"You showed me how to love again. How to be tender again and pointed me toward accepting I'm worthy of being loved. I will be grateful for all eternity for those gifts, my Archangel."

The words came from out of the blue, surprising him. Warren gazed into the depths of his lover's eyes. The time was growing very near when Ztar no longer need him. He felt it in his soul. Perhaps it was already here. A slight shudder ran through him without warning with that knowing. His throat tightened.

"I'm glad, Ztar. You deserve those gifts as you call them." Warren brushed his fingers through Ztar's hair, concentrating on its texture and feel. The thought of leaving the man next to him was painful despite all the denial. 'Oh dear god, Worthington, have you fallen in love in spite yourself?' Warren focused on not letting the rising emotions get too close to the surface, as Ztar would pick up on them through their connection.

Ztar felt a flicker of something pass through the empathic link. Something elusive was there, beneath the surface, but it wasn't clear. A sadness? Regret? Ztar couldn't be certain. It felt similar to the sensation he detected earlier. "I will always love you. And regardless of what you say, part of me will always _need_ you." Ztar was firm in that belief. It was a sideways truth. Ztar _wanted_ part of him to always need Archangel. It was a way of not letting go completely.

Warren didn't respond but watched Ztar's face. The Turzent would be fine. He may mourn Warren's leaving, but then he'd move on. And if what Warren suspected about Ztar and Jharda was correct, then Ztar was even further along in letting go than Warren had realized. 'Soon you'll be home,' he informed himself. 'Back on Earth.' That idea held many reservations and challenges. Re-integrating into his previous life would be difficult to say the least. Perhaps, though, it offered an opportunity as well. Perhaps he could return and start a new life, not go back to the old. 'Yup, that feels better,' he concluded. 'Start over. Need to figure out what that means, though.'

Ztar traced his fingers down Archangel's face. "Do you know how beautiful you are? Do you understand that?" he asked. "I don't mean on the outside. That is obvious. I mean on the inside…how beautiful your soul is."

'Not now,' Warren thought to himself sitting up. Ztar had been making comments like that off and on the last few days and it made Warren uncomfortable. Beautiful on the inside was far from what Warren was. Ironic how clueless the powerful telepath was. He had done things, been things that were dark and filled with violence. He was not the angelic Esserru Ztar often called him. Warren did want to shed that shame and feel good about himself again, but at his own pace, in his own time. Ztar pressing the issue only made him feel even more like the ultimate deceiver.

"Do you want some Dison?" he asked abruptly changing the subject.

Ztar frowned. "Don't do that, Archangel," he replied, placing a hand on Archangel's arm for fear the human would leave the bed.

"Do what?" Warren asked, knowing precisely what Ztar was referring to.

"Why is it that you have been so concerned about my inner health yet have so little care for your own?"

Warren really didn't want to go to where this conversation was heading. Not right now and not anytime soon. He wasn't comfortable talking about his insides. Too much stuffed down into the deep pit to risk lifting that lid. He feared the result if he did. "My problems aren't what this has been all about, Ztar. Let it go."

"First I will say what is in my heart," he replied firmly, dropping his hand from Archangel when he felt the body tension ease slightly. "You are as deserving of happiness as I am. Actually, much more so. In my readings of your thoughts in the beginning, I found nothing that you've done that should diminish how you see yourself." Ztar had to pause as the emotions were strong. He so wanted Archangel to understand how precious he was. "I have touched your mind and perhaps even your soul, and it is pure and good. Don't let circumstances and what has been forced upon you in the past make you feel less worthy or cause you to dislike who you are."

Warren listened to the words and riled against them. 'You're biased. You don't know what I've done. Don't know what I'm _capable_ of doing,' he argued silently, keeping the thoughts to himself.

Ztar felt a rush of anger and denial in Archangel. "My Archangel, what are you thinking?"

Warren stiffened again. "Just drop it, Ztar. I don't want to talk about this, okay?"

"I want you to see how others see you and understand that you are worthwhile," Ztar decided to plow ahead whether Archangel cooperated or not. "You are wrong to believe yourself tainted and undeserving."

Warren started to get out of the bed but Ztar grabbed his shoulders. "This was a perfectly nice evening, Ztar. Don't spoil it. Let's just get a drink and talk of something else. I'm not in the mood for psycho-analysis."

Ztar wanted to shake the human in his frustration. By the gods, would Archangel ever believe in himself? He wanted to give Archangel a perspective outside of himself – the inspiration he had when talking with Jharda about Archangel's self-perception. He took a breath before the next words knowing they'd hit home. "Your self-loathing is misguided. Everyone around you believes in you and cares about you. You're deserving of that! I've seen nothing in your mind that justifies how you view yourself, including what you did while under Apocalypse's control. Let it go and all the other reasons why you imagine yourself unworthy. Forgive yourself of the perceived sins if that's what it takes. You have a good heart, Archangel. Please, let me help you believe that."

'He _knows_?! Oh god, how deep did he read me?' The feelings of guilt rose up. That horrifying memory of when he thought he'd killed Bobby in cold blood rose up to nearly choke him. That's what he was capable of – killing someone he'd known since they were teenagers and loved like a brother. That is what Apocalypse unleashed in him. And all the other things he did as Death. He'd sold his soul for the freedom of flight. 'Unforgivable!' And before Apocalypse? Rich kid, spoiled brat, playboy – self-assured, self-absorbed – the world by the tail. He lived the part so well for so many years. But it was a lie. More like rich Daddy with a self-absorbed son who did little to support the family business; who did nothing to deserve the wealth he was given. His whole life, he floundered, moving from one focus to another, finding little he could hold on to for very long. His life was one messed up joke of an existence more often than not. And Ztar thought all _that_ was worthy of something?

When the man remained silent, Ztar tried again. "Archangel, listen to me. You performed a miracle in me, doesn't that speak for itself? Could someone with a tainted soul heal another tainted soul? I don't believe so."

"Enough, Ztar," Warren said angrily. "I know what kind of life I've lead and it is not the idyllic existence you imagine. I've been selfish, egotistical, brutal, callous, just to name a few. You see me through rose-colored glasses, Ztar. I'm not perfect! I'm not pure!" Warren shrugged Ztar's hand off as the man reached for him again. "I'm not an angel who's strayed once or twice. Most of my life has been a fucked up mess. I'm not your perfect little Esserru!" He tried to get up, but the Turzent restrained him, escalating his anger.

"I never said you were perfect. None of us is. What I'm saying is that you have a distorted view of yourself. What others see as minor, you see as major flaws. The mistakes you deemed as unforgivable, those around you long ago forgave. Are you saying they are wrong to have done so?"

Warren couldn't bring himself to look at Ztar. The shame and embarrassment was too great. Ztar was clueless. He hadn't been there, he didn't _really_ know. "I don't want to discuss it anymore. The conversation is over," he said firmly. "Let go of me."

"Very well." Ztar released Archangel's arms. "We won't talk anymore. I'll show you how others see you. Perhaps then you'll understand."

Warren locked eyes with the Turzent at that announcement. "Ztar, what do you mean you'll _show_ me?" What was the telepath planning?

Without asking permission and without warning Ztar began feeding Archangel's mind the feelings, images, memories, and thoughts people had concerning Archangel. The bits and pieces from other minds he'd tucked away in his own through the years. Sukja, Atichi, Moit'de, Gtar-Cro, Officer de'Letnoir from the Mi-Lartui five years earlier, even Physician Vozeipar'de. Words spoken and unspoken of admiration and caring he pushed into the human's mind.

That was just the beginning. Most important were the memories taken from Charles Xavier and the X-men who had been on the Mi-Lartui the day Ztar saw Archangel for the first time. He had scanned them deeply at the time and filed away that knowledge. Ztar replayed the siphoned memories to show Archangel the truth. Everything positive, everything showing strength and courage, all the loving feelings of friendship, and their memories of Archangel's self-sacrifices and kindness and generosity. Their concerns about Archangel's well-being and his many losses. Their bafflement about his lack of self-worth and deep-seated belief that he didn't matter. All these things he poured into man's mind.

At first, Archangel squeezed his eyes shut against the bombardment and opened his mouth as if to protest, but he remained silent. Then the trembling began and Ztar continued to stream the thoughts and memories into him. The human shook his head as if disagreeing with what he was experiencing. His hands reached for Ztar's forearms and grabbed hold. "Stop…" he whispered, but Ztar did not.

Lastly, he fed into his companion his own observations, thoughts, and feelings. How Archangel had guided and inspired him to become better than he was. Had given him reason and courage to slay the angry, hungry beast within him. He showed Archangel what his goodness and sacrifice meant and how it had touched Ztar's very soul; how much he loved him. And how truly breathtaking he was and how that physical exquisiteness was only made richer and more profound by his noble spirit.

What Warren experienced was like a movie only complete with feelings and thoughts, not just sounds and images. At first it was hard to take it all in, but then he quit fighting and the feeling of being overwhelmed eased. There was Sukja and all the others from his life on Sat'rey. He saw/felt/heard the Professor and several of the other X-men. He saw himself through their eyes and their minds. It was hard to watch yet fascinating at the same time. The person he saw through them was a stranger. Someone who had much more courage than he did, someone with a strength of character that would not be compromised. The man others saw was not a mutant who had great powers, but someone with a powerful moral base who fiercely fought for what was right and for those who couldn't fight for themselves. The X-men saw a fellow warrior everyone could count on. Someone who had suffered much but had endured and remained kind.

The person he saw through their eyes was a giving person that was protective and loyal. They saw not someone who was perfect, but beneath the façade and emotional shield, someone with a good heart. A friend people loved, but who held himself in reserve and did not share freely his hopes, dreams, sorrows, and pain. He watched how that hurt those he cared about as they wanted to help and be there for him when he needed them whether he realized that need or not. And then came Ztar's own feelings and thoughts and with those his deep love. It was nearly too much, too intense.

'How can anyone love me that much?' Warren asked himself.

Ztar stopped the flow and after giving Archangel a few moments to collect himself, he spoke. "Do you understand now that how you see yourself is _not_ reality? That you see yourself through faulty eyes?" Then Ztar broke his own rule and began telepathically reading Archangel. This was too important not to.

The person he had seen was someone he would like to call friend, yet it conflicted so much with how he viewed himself and that conflict tore him open. 'They really don't know you, that's why they're fooled!' part of him decried harshly. 'If they really knew you…'

'That's not true, my precious Archangel. They know you better than you know yourself,' he 'pathed to man in emotional upheaval in front of him. 'They see you for what you truly are. It is you who doesn't know you. Please, please listen to their wisdom and their love for you. _That_ is reality – not the image you've created in your own mind.' He pulled the human into his arms. 'You are worthy of being loved, deserved to be loved, not only by those around you but also by yourself. You've given me that greatest of gifts, now give it to yourself.'

Finally, the tears came and the pent-up anguish erupted. It was raw and cutting. Warren's chest hurt from the emotional pain turned physical. Warren held to Ztar. He wanted to believe – needed to believe all he was shown, but the doubts remained. Years of self-condemnation wouldn't give up without a fight, but he wanted to feel something other how he had the past many years. There must be a better way to live than that. As the worst of the pain eased, he pulled back from Ztar's chest and looked into the deep brown eyes of the man that he knew loved him unconditionally. "I'll try," he said simply.

"That's all I can ask for now. But know that I'll do whatever I can to help you get there. It is the least I can do for the one who saved me from myself."

While Archangel blew his nose and wiped his face, Ztar stroked the wings and sent feelings of love and soothing. Ztar realized he felt more at peace and that his and Archangel's relationship had come fully around – the circle was complete. The healed heals the healer. Yet he did not deceive himself that Archangel was miraculously cured in this one conversation. It would take much work on Archangel's part to learn to love himself once again. What Ztar hoped was Archangel had taken the first step.

"Hold onto the memories I've given you. Look to them whenever you feel doubt or when you tell yourself you're not worthy. Don't let the negative voices within you win, my Archangel. They don't speak the truth and only seek to harm you. Lean on the strength of those that care about you and listen to them. One day, those negative voices will be silenced. Promise me you'll do this." Ztar sent love and encouragement with the words, praying that Archangel would take his advice.

Ztar's face reflected so much tenderness. And at that moment, Warren knew he loved him. Maybe not an in-love love, but it was more than friendship love. He'd admit that much. "Thank you for caring, Ztar, and for loving me enough to try to help," Warren said in gratitude, taking Ztar's large hand into his and squeezing tightly.

"Thank me by healing from all the past hurts, including the ones I inflicted. Do it for you. Seek to be happy, my Archangel, from deep inside. It will take work, but you _are_ worth it."

He wanted that for himself, too. 'Not sure how to make it happen, but I want it,' Warren realized. "Perhaps now we can get the Dison?" he asked with a crooked smile.

Ztar chuckled gently. "Yes, now let's get the Dison."

The balance of their getaway slipped by and before long, it was time to return to the palace. Warren left the canyon feeling different somehow. Whether the change was from Ztar's bombardment therapy or the peacefulness of the canyon he didn't know. At first, Warren wasn't even sure what was different. As they traveled toward home, he tried to identify the change. Just as they approached the Imperial Valley, he believed he had put a finger on it. The feeling was akin to something you're unaware of until it's gone because you've grown so accustomed to the chronic presence. Warren realized the deep, emotional gnawing he'd live with for years had lessened ever so slightly.

### --- ###

He'd hoped they would run into each other eventually when no one else was around. It had been a long time since they met for tea in the greenhouse. The casual hellos and brief conversations in the palace halls had been somewhat uncomfortable. The whole situation had grown uncomfortable. He sensed it from Merryth as well. Now that he was feeling more and more that returning to Earth was imminent, he would have eventually commed her if this chance meeting on the reflecting pool patio hadn't occurred. No one else was around. Perfect.

"Merryth, how are you?" he opened warmly.

"I am well, sir," then she caught herself and smiled. "Habit," she explained, pushing back the hair from her face as the wind caught it.

Warren returned the grin. Again, he admired the contrast between the deep rust-red hair and emerald green eyes. She was stunning. "Quite all right. I've been meaning to catch you to confess my sin."

Merryth cocked her head and gave Archangel a curious look. She had surmised that the member of court had realized their friendship couldn't be when he became more standoffish since the greenhouse. "And that sin is?"

"Not comming you since our afternoon tea. I'm usually more considerate than that. As you are well aware, the situation is more complicated than just the two of us becoming friends," he said with straightforwardness.

Merryth's assumption was correct, she knew instantly. Archangel was right. She'd come to the same conclusion.

"Thank you for your honesty. Sadly, I agree with you. Life has set us on opposites," she explained.

"On opposites?" He hadn't heard the phrase before.

"It's a phrase my father uses. You and I," she gestured with her hand between them, "are on the same path, but going opposite directions. We meet in the middle, but are meant to pass and continue our opposite journeys."

Warren considered that and agreed it described the situation precisely. "I like that saying. Very fitting."

She looked into Archangel's incredibly blue eyes. "The Dreian and the Human meet, stop briefly, then part to continue on their way. That's us," Merryth summed up with a sudden sadness of things that would never be.

Warren nodded, feeling again that if only their circumstances had been different. "It was nice meeting you, Merryth. Have a good journey. I hope you find happiness and success in life," he wished with a wistful smile. This was more emotional than he would have thought.

"And you, Archangel. May your life be full." The wind caught her hair again sending the thick mane dancing in the Sat'rey spring breeze. Merryth did not try to contain it this time. She turned and left him there, her heart hurting more than she felt it should.

### --- ###

"I must admit," Charles started, staring coldly at the alien as the man stood before him in the meeting room on his imperial cruiser. "I was quite surprised at your offer to be probed, Emperor. Your security advisors must be very concerned. You will be extremely vulnerable and completely open to someone who does not consider you a friend. Not to mention that the whole experience will be…uncomfortable." Charles did not soften his words. He still believed Ztar had assumed he would not take him up on the offer; that the offer itself would be sufficient.

"If it will help me gain your trust, it is worth the discomfort. It is nothing compared to the discomfort of uncertainty you have lived under for five years. As for risk, Archangel trusts you, therefore, I do."

Charles studied the man he loathed. At long last, he had his chance to confront the alien who had ripped Warren from his home and placed Earth under threat of slavery. He would not let the opportunity slip by to tell the Turzent what he had wanted to say for nearly six agonizing years.

"Ztar, I don't believe you are capable of fully comprehending what you've put Warren, me, the other X-men, or our planet through. The day you took Warren from us was the day part of my soul died. He is like a son to me. To have so coldly and so horrifically ripped him from us and everyone he knows and cares about is untenable. Not once did you do this, but twice! Your self-gratifying brutality, sadistic cruelty, and deviant obsession nearly destroyed one of the most gentle and noble spirits I've ever known." Xavier nearly shook as long pent up anger was released. "What we on Earth went through pales against what you did to Warren. You took away everything and everyone he knew, stripped him of his dignity and self-respect, devoided him of all rights as a sentient being and made him a piece of property to do with as you pleased. You raped his body and his mind and then proceeded to control and manipulate him to fit into your twisted, perverted vision of life with him at your side. And you have the audacity to believe I could come to _trust_ you?" Xavier stared with almost lethal intent into the eyes of the one man he could murder without remorse.

Ztar held the stare for many seconds, then finally turned away. He would not read Xavier, but his empathic senses were overwhelmed by the hatred radiating from the human. It reminded him of the feelings he experienced from Archangel long ago.

"I do not believe, Professor Xavier, but I do hope for that someday." Ztar swallowed hard and looked back at the man he knew wanted to see him dead. "You are right and I deny none of it. I was a monster, driven by a blackness in my soul so deep that I could not escape on my own. But Archangel helped me heal and now I am no longer that monster. Scan me, Xavier. Learn all that your friend was able to do for me. He _is_ a gentle and noble spirit as you say, and that spirit is a powerful healer. Archangel performed a miracle in me. I don't ask that you trust me on my own merit, but I ask that you consider doing so based on the miracle that is Archangel." Ztar then seated himself and prepared mentally for what was to come. It would be unpleasant on many levels.

Something in Ztar's eyes and words touched Charles in spite of himself. They spoke of salvation. Was it possible?

"Open to me," Xavier commanded as he readied himself to plunge into the mind of the monster.

Xavier did not soften the blow as he penetrated Ztar's mind and the Turzent flinched and clenched his fists. 'Good!' Xavier thought with some satisfaction before closing his eyes to focus. He would not spare the alien. Charles was in the mind by invitation and he would be thorough and none too gentle.

He had decided before arriving that he'd start at the very beginning of Ztar's memories and work his way through time. He found a vivid memory from Ztar's childhood that burned with fear and confusion. A man whom Xavier determined was the Turzent's father hit him hard, knocking the very young boy to the floor. Crying, the boy cowered where he landed as the man loomed above him tall and frightening. Why he had been struck appeared to have something to do with not doing as he was told, but the boy was confused. "You will obey me or next time it will be worse!" the father yelled grabbing young Ztar by the shirt and hauling him to his feet with roughness that made Xavier wince in shared fear and pain. Xavier found many more instances of abuse along with memories of a mother who turned a blind eye to what her son was enduring. A smattering of recollections of his mother and other siblings also being physically and emotionally abused was woven into Ztar's memories throughout his childhood.

Xavier learned Ztar's family was quite poor, living hand to mouth. He was the oldest of several children, each addition seeming to anger his father more. "Another damn mouth to feed!" was a recurring vocal memory. Charles saw Ztar was forced to work from a young age to help support the family. There was little time for play or to be a child. It wasn't until Ztar was older that he questioned his father why he and his mother kept having children they couldn't afford. That only got the teenage boy a slug to the face. Stress, fear, anger, and the pain of feeling unloved and a burden permeated the boy's existence. Such was his life until Ztar left to join the military at an early an age as they allowed.

Ztar's tough upbringing served him well in the military. He was cool and calm under pressure and violence didn't frighten him. The young soldier was noticed as a natural leader. Years of maneuvering to avoid the worst his father could dish out also became an advantage, and his military career further unleashed that natural gift for strategy. As the years played out in Charles' probing, he watched Ztar climb the military ladder rapidly. With success came the feelings of acceptance and approval. His fellow officers, subordinates, even his superior officers became his family, filling a void that he hadn't known was there from his blood family that didn't know how to love.

Ztar was very popular with his peers – a rising star amongst them. Sex was plentiful and Ztar enjoyed the pastime with passion and zeal. Both men and women sought out his bed and his reputation as a skilled bedmate was exceptional. Then along came a young female officer by the name of Jharda Myrundra and Ztar fell head over heels that first night. But she was determined in her career goals and would not commit and before long, she was promoted and Ztar was reassigned and they went their separate ways. Ztar's heart, though, never truly let go.

Next Charles was nearly overcome with the emotions of the ultimate betrayal by those he considered family. Sentenced to almost certain death, Ztar was commandeered for Military Development's augmentation program by enemies not of his own making. The memories of that horror, pain, and despair colliding with the rage of betrayal were raw in their intensity. Charles shook from the impact as Ztar's feelings and thoughts at the time flooded him.

Memories of that fateful day when he received the augmentation serum were fragmented, but those that held were drenched with physical agony as the serum took hold of his DNA, altered it, and morphed Ztar's body into something that was foreign to him. Then in the midst of the horrific pain, thoughts that weren't his own suddenly bombarded his mind, nearly overwhelming his own consciousness. Confused, panicked, and his body and mind racked with torment, he operated on an instinctual level with survival the only driving force. Out of the chaos, something snapped and energy exploded from him in a directions in a lethal shockwave. His mind lashed out with a power he didn't recognize and couldn't control, and people died at its touch while he felt their minds scream their dying in his.

What followed were only bits and pieces of recollection, always accompanied by physical and emotional pain. Ztar woke in the wilderness, naked and dazed, his body in pain to what felt like the cellular level, the blinding headache perhaps the worst of his agony. As he wandered and drifted, vague memories of being hunted whirled with continued killing of those who pursued him, as the Turzent wielded his new daggers whenever he felt threatening minds approaching.

In desperation, he sought out the one person he felt he could still trust. The military officer risked much to hide him. Joining secretly with others, they helped Ztar hone his new weapons with deadly accuracy. He knew they wanted to use him for their own purposes, his telepathy told him that, but at the time, it was a mutually beneficial arrangement. Meanwhile, hatred and anger brewed. Using what he pulled from his protectors' minds and others, he formulated a plan to destroy those who had sought to twist him into a weapon of their wielding and ultimately the people who had betrayed him.

Xavier witnessed the ruthless climb to power, seeing the people who had sheltered Ztar for their own purposes ultimately become his victims in a long line of retribution deaths. Nothing could stop him – powerful telepathy backed up by strong empathic abilities, a lethal bio-energy field, and the strength of three Turzents, who were strong enough beings in their own right, all wielded by the mind of a brilliant strategist. Ztar ultimately proclaimed himself Emperor of the Ta'oc Empire, disbanded the government and resurrected a form of Turzent rule that had been dissolved less than a generation prior – dictatorship.

Exercising his new authority, he ordered the extermination of the Etagllot organization that Military Development had hired to advance their augmentation program. Dealing with the mil-dev betrayers was easy. Destroying the Etagllot was a three-year, hard-fought battle of wits in a hide-and-seek game. In the end, with the help of his staunch supporter and equally brilliant head of military intelligence, General Gtar-Cro, Ztar succeeded.

Even as Ztar accomplished all his goals, he was denied any happiness in the bedchamber. His body was so strong that in the throws of passion bedmates were injured, some severely. Bedmate after bedmate did not survive his physical needs. What was once a joyful release became a source of endless frustration. Over time, that frustration became raging anger. What had been done to him by the Etagllot and military scientists stripped from him one of life's greatest gifts – unrestrained, passionate sex. His attendant attempted to find him suitable bedmates, but those of sturdy bodies, failed to satisfy sensually, and the sensual ones didn't survive the Emperor physically.

Charles allowed himself to feel Ztar's pain, his deep anger, and the aching need in his soul that drove him to scream at times in anguish. With his mind, Charles followed all the emotional traumas inflicted during his life that demanded to be resolved, but were instead pushed down and denied. Yet to his credit, the Turzent did not let the anger rule other aspects of his life. He remained a steady, predictable monarch. Harsh at times, yes, even brutal; but never given to wanton cruelty or infliction of pain for its own sake. He had a conqueror's steel heart, but it was tempered a desire to create a lasting empire, not one held together only by fear and intimidation. Ztar, Charles had to admit, for the most part was a firm, but just ruler.

The bedchamber was a different matter. That's where the blackness in his soul emerged. When willing bedmates could not be found, Ztar resurrected the longstanding Imperial tradition of the Emperor's right to claim whomever he wished as a bedmate, willing or otherwise. Through the years, Ztar burned through bedmates in rapid succession, never able to find the perfect combination of sensuality and physical and mental toughness. Until Archangel.

###

Outside the room, Warren paced. He prayed that Charles would not lose himself to the hate. If he did, there'd be no saving Ztar. Xavier was disciplined and had incredible self-control and that reassured Warren. Still though…

'Dear god, what's taking so long!' he thought, looking for the fiftieth time at the clock. It'd been over a standard hour.

"Archangel, if you don't stop pacing, you're going to drive me to do something rash," Gtar-Cro warned in a semi-serious tone. It was the third such warning from the General.

With a heavy sigh, Warren sat down. Two people he cared about were facing each other and one wished the other dead. So much was riding on this. Charles literally could sway Earth to be a willing member of the Empire or to demand its independence. Warren agreed with Ztar's reasoning – Earth would be far safer as part of the Empire in a dangerous and unpredictable universe. He prayed Charles would find that Warren's faith misplaced.

###

Charles felt Ztar's elation at seeing and probing Archangel. His overwhelming lust and driving desire to have the singular creature who looked for all the heavens like the legendary Esserru of Turzent mythology swept through Charles. He must have him! He needed to have him! But he would not come willingly and so Ztar ordered his people to write an Accord that would enslave the human to him in a manner that would guarantee his cooperation. In Ztar's scan of Archangel, he learned that the human would likely do whatever was necessary to protect his world. It was a miracle to the Emperor. He had found his perfect match.

And finally Xavier had the answer to the question that long plagued him. Why hadn't Ztar simply taken control of Warren mentally? Why bother with an Accord? In Ztar's mind, he saw that the powerful telepath would not control of his bedmate in that way out of an odd set of morals. He learned Ztar loathed any telepath who so used that ability without overwhelming and justifiable cause. Traditional methods of control he used freely, but mental domination was not one. Ztar was many things, but a taker of ultimate free will was not one of them.

Then Xavier watched in horror at Ztar's first two nights with Warren and it drove him to tears. 'Dear god, what you went through, my friend!' he cried out in his mind and the hatred directed at Ztar burned with white-hot intensity. The memories flew by Charles' mental eye – the brutal but incredibly satisfying first rape, then the fear of losing Archangel to insanity from the mental and physical assault of the second night, all the nights that followed of unbridled sex and the pleasure so blinding in its intensity that Ztar couldn't get enough. He went back for more and more, nearly wanting to devour Archangel. He was like someone dying from thirst who found water at the last moment. The man grabbed onto Archangel with a fierce hold as a drowning man would cling to a life preserver.

Much happened over that first year. The incident where Archangel calmed him with what Ztar could only describe as an offering of peacefulness. Then there was strange energy Archangel could manifest that drove passion and orgasm to supernatural rapture. Charles was surprised. A new ability? It would be something to ask Warren about another time. Charles returned to his work.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Ztar found he was changing. Archangel was filling a deep void within him in spite of Archangel's resistance to give only what was necessary to protect Earth. At some point, Ztar realized he loved Archangel. Then war came and Xavier saw Ztar's anguish over Archangel's depression from the confinement and the Emperor's painful decision to return the human to Earth for his sanity and protection.

Charles touched the deep, longing ache that penetrated to Ztar's soul at the weeks of separation from Archangel during the years of war and the joyous, soul-feeding reunions. Yet that joy was overshadowed by Ztar's knowing that Archangel loathed him, and it tore at his heart. Time moved on and the war was over. Ztar decided to settle down on Sat'rey where Archangel would have the freedom of the skies whenever he desired. Charles felt the Emperor's hopes and prayers that somehow, by some miracle Archangel would be happy. The need was powerful to be with Archangel. Ztar truly believed his soul would perish without the human and he continued to cling to his unwilling companion desperately.

Charles replayed the emotions, thoughts, and visual memories of their first weeks together on Sat'rey. He watched Ztar's campaign to show the human how wonderful it could be with Ztar and Archangel's continued resistance. Then came the terrorist kidnapping. Charles heart broke all over again as he learned what Warren had endured. He felt what Ztar felt as he lived Warren's physical and mental anguish through the empathic connection. He watched through Ztar's eyes as the Turzent unleashed his rage, blazing a path of death and destruction to get to Archangel and Sukja. The following weeks were hellish as Ztar tried to come to grips with his own guilt and his desperate attempts to help Archangel recover. All through the ordeal, his love deepened and matured. One day, a miracle. Archangel became a willing bedmate and Ztar's soul sang in boundless happiness. He believed he didn't deserve the gift Archangel was giving, but he accepted it with a heart overflowing with gratitude.

Finally, the day came when Ztar decided to void the Accord. He had to let Archangel go and it was like a jagged knife to the soul. Ztar. He would not survive the anguish, yet it had to be done. Not only for the sake of his new government, but for Archangel. As much as he needed the human, he could not bring himself to keep him against his will. He loved him too much. Then Ztar received his second miracle when Archangel said he'd stay. Words were inadequate to describe the intensity of joy and disbelief Charles experienced with that memory. In surreal amazement, Ztar made love to the man he cherished more than life itself. His world was complete.

Their next many months together, Charles saw the arguments and head butting and the redefining of Ztar and Archangel's relationship as Archangel became more and more settled into life on Sat'rey as a free person. Charles nearly chuckled aloud as he watched in amusement Ztar's perspective of his and Archangel's rough-housing in the valley, followed by Ztar's surprise attack of Archangel in their chambers, still grimy from their mock battle, and getting his companion dirty all over again. He watched another time when Ztar snatched Archangel from behind and carried him to the bed, the human laughing and playfully attempting to escape the whole way. Ztar's heart had swelled with love at the laughter and mischief.

In the midst of all the memories, Charles continued to find no evidence that Ztar used telepathy or any other methods to force Warren to stay. And he searched thoroughly. He was dumbstruck. Ztar hadn't used mental control. Warren had willingly stayed. Charles saw in Ztar's mind the reason Warren gave him. It was the same reason Warren had given Charles. Xavier had been wrong.

He continued to probe and as the last few months played out, he felt what Ztar felt – less a gripping need for Archangel and more of a wanting. The deep void in his soul was filled and a distance memory. Ztar was feeling whole and at peace with himself and much of his past. He credited Archangel with that healing; with saving his very soul from the blackness that had swallowed it all those years ago.

Charles saw Ztar's relationship with Jharda Myrundra and it surprised him. He found Warren did not know of it. Ztar was deceiving Warren! Yet, as he continued to probe, he found that Ztar knew his time with Warren was coming to an end. It was time, Ztar had concluded to himself. Charles rejoiced. At that very moment, he decided he'd keep Ztar's secret and let things take their natural course knowing that Warren would likely be home soon.

The last scanning Charles performed was about Earth and the offer of membership in the Turzent Empire. He could find no ill-intent, only an intense desire to create a lasting empire built on the strength of its people. The Emperor wanted to provide a secure foundation for the future, and he wanted that future to include Archangel's homeworld. Charles saw the desire to protect Earth in a way that was best for her people was genuine. Then to be certain, he rummaged through Ztar's mind one more time to be certain he hadn't missed something; that the powerful telepath wasn't hiding something from him.

When Charles finally pulled slowly away from Ztar's mind, he did so gently. The man before him had been reborn and in no way resembled the cruel conqueror that had taken Warren nearly six Earth years earlier. In fact, he barely resembled the man that took Warren for a second time less than two years ago. Charles had been wrong. Ztar had been worth the sacrifice. He would be a magnanimous leader of the Turzent Empire – intelligent, dedicated, just, and noble – all interwoven with renewed compassion and emotional strength and stability. This was a story of true salvation and Charles had witnessed it in compressed review.

He watched the Turzent open his eyes for likely the first time since Charles drove into his mind. Those eyes were full of anticipation and hope, reflecting the emotions he within. Xavier realized with new appreciation how trusting the Emperor had been to allow Charles to know him so intimately, exposing his most private demons and deeds.

Charles measured his words carefully. "Emperor, you are no longer the person I believed you to be. You traveled the path of personal redemption that few successfully navigate. Warren was right. I was wrong. The man before me is deserving of a second chance and, perhaps, trust. I will approach Earth's leaders with a changed paradigm. I will encourage them to approve the plan as you have presented it – that Earth remain within the Empire but as a non-active member and under quarantine until our people are ready."

Ztar let out the breath he'd been holding. The relief was enormous. The human before him knew all his deepest secrets, darkest thoughts, and most painful and shameful memories. Charles Xavier also now knew Ztar's love for Archangel and what he had done in saving Ztar from himself.

"The change in me would not have happened without Archangel. He saved my soul. Your friend is the most incredible being I've ever encountered. He saved me without wanting to…at first. Then later he came to see something within me that was worth saving that I didn't see in myself. Without him, I'd still be that monster. The debt I owe Archangel cannot be truly repaid, but I vowed to him that as long as I draw breath, Earth will be safe and protected within my Empire. And after I'm dead, I hope that the Empire we've built will continue to safeguard your world in the centuries ahead. That is the least I can do in partial payment," Ztar said his voice nearly breaking as his throat tightened. "Thank you, Charles Xavier, for giving me a chance to undo some of the wrongs I've done."

Charles held Ztar's gaze for many moments, seeing the moisture fill the large, brown eyes. "Releasing Archangel from all sense of obligation to you will be the best repayment. Let him go, Ztar. Tell him you're ready. You know that is the case. There is nothing more he can do for you."

Ztar cast his eyes down. Xavier had seen what Ztar had hoped to keep hidden from Archangel for just a little longer. He had seen Jharda. He knew Ztar ready to let his companion go. It would be horribly painful, but he'd survive it. Jharda would help him through the leaving, that he knew.

"I will. Very soon," he promised in a near whisper.

"You loved him enough to free him from the Accord all those months ago when you _weren't_ ready. Now love him enough push him out if he won't leave on his own."

Ztar nodded. He would do as Archangel's friend asked if he must, but he hoped it didn't come to that. It would take strength he wasn't certain he possessed.

Charles rolled back from the table. "Then it is time for me to return to Earth. I have many people to convince of the wisdom and sincerity of your offer and very little time before the transition occurs."

Ztar looked into Xavier's face with a longing. "I wish I'd had someone like you all those years ago when my abilities manifested. Archangel was very lucky that you found him."

Charles shook his head. "No, I'm the lucky one. Warren has blessed me with his friendship. And you are correct. He is one of the most amazing spirits I have yet encountered as well."

###

The door to the meeting room finally slid opened and Warren nearly jumped out of his seat, darting his eyes between Charles and Ztar. Then Charles gave him a quick smile and the relief was instant.

"Warren…General…the Emperor and I are in agreement concerning Earth's membership in the Empire."

"We are," Ztar confirmed.

"I will support that Earth remain within the empire as Emperor Ztar was offered," Charles announced.

"Then our work here is done," the General concluded, visibly relieved.

Warren walked over and knelt beside the Professor with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Charles. I knew you'd understand once you saw for yourself."

Charles smile back at his dear friend. "You can thank me once I've actually convinced Earth to do as I recommend."

Warren laughed. "Professor, when you set your mind to persuade someone, there's no resisting!"

###

Shortly thereafter, Charles was back aboard his transport ship and heading home. The hate and anger he'd held to for close to so long was nearly dissipated by the single, profound event, and no one was more surprised by that than Charles. Who would have believed it possible? Certainly not Xavier. Wasn't it he who had said of the alien, once a psychopath, always a psychopath? If he hadn't "seen" the change for himself, he'd still believe that.

It didn't mean he forgave the emperor for his past atrocities. That would be going too far. Warren was apparently far nobler in that regard than Charles. And he would still travel to Sat'rey and retrieve Warren if he must, but fight against what Emperor Ztar offered Earth? No. Not if it was what the rest of the planet's leaders believed best for their small, relatively insignificant world. The Empire offered a shield of protection Earth could never muster on its own.

Yet as tempting as the shield was, Earth would have been better off without it if that shield had been wielded by a sadistic and unstable ruler. As unbelievable as it may sound, that was no longer the case. His challenge – convince the skeptical leaders of Earth's most influential countries to believe the unbelievable.

### --- ###

_Okay, there's the natural breakpoint I determined the story demanded. Next chapter is all about Fjai. Will the scientists find what they hope for? Will Warren get the answers he seeks? Stay tuned!_


	16. Chapter 16

_Hey, there! Got re-energized for some reason and I'm on a roll this weekend. Helps that I practically have the house to myself for two days. Just a few chores to take care of here and there and the rest of the weekend is for writing. Yes! We have 50 pages (give or take) to go after this chapter – can't believe we're that close to the end. _

_Angst mostly takes a break as we focus on the Fjai business. Things don't turn out at all as expected. _

**Chapter 16**

The ride to Fjai was short with the station parked in geostationary orbit above Yaunra. Stepping out of the shuttle, elite guards ahead and behind them, Warren immediately spied four people in obvious labwear waiting near the shuttle bay exit. The mere sight of the attire gave him the heebie-jeebies, but he pushed the feeling down. Ztar gave him a sideways glance.

"I'm okay," Warren reassured in response to Ztar's unspoken question. The Turzent, on the other hand, appeared ready to bolt – a very unEmperor-like expression. "And you?"

Ztar only nodded as the group of four approached all smiles.

'The eager grins of medical researchers…a discomforting sight,' Warren projected the thought to Ztar with a nervous mental chuckle.

'Exactly my thoughts. They look much too enthusiastic,' the reply shot back with feelings of intense discomfort.

'We can still run! The shuttle hasn't powered down yet,' Warren offered half-seriously as the group came within feet of them.

'If you do, I'll be right behind you!'

Ztar's telepathed thoughts were full of nervous tension. Warren put a smirk cross his face as they locked eyes. 'Nay, the two of us have faced worst. We can take these guys!'

A mental laugh was entwined with Archangel's projection. 'You're right. They try anything we don't like, we'll kick their scientific butts!' Ztar shot back inserting a twist to one of his companion's favorite lines.

"Greetings, my Emperor and Archangel. Welcome to Fjai!" a male of obvious Gamas decent greeted.

'He says that with such warmth – as if this is a vacation resort,' Warren pushed to Ztar. He caught the man forcibly suppress an audible laugh.

Ztar nodded his acknowledgment. "We are…pleased to be here."

'Had a hard time with that one, didn't you?' Warren quipped into Ztar's mind.

'Archangel, please!' Ztar begged, trying to keep himself from laughing in the face of their host.

Warren backed off with the humor as Ztar's tension appeared to be easing.

"I am Facility Director Plephner Esair and I will be overseeing all aspects of your time with us. May I introduce the research team assigned to you?" At his Emperor's signal, the man continued. "Emperor, I present Head Researcher Damymours'de." The female Sat'reyan bowed slightly. "She is leading this phase of our W-Q research."

Esair waved a hand to the next person in line. "Researcher T'nui." The Ozjaerian male gave a quick bow. "And Researcher Rmaz-ji-wie." The second female was of a species that Warren couldn't place. She was not attractive to Warren's human aesthetics in the least with features reminiscent of an armadillo. He hoped her personality was softer than her appearance.

Damymours'de took a half step forward, meeting the Emperor's gaze. "My team has been assembled from our most respected researchers on Fjai." She then faced Warren straight on. "Archangel, we very much appreciate your willingness to participate in our studies. Your survival of the virus gives us all hope that we may yet find the cure that has eluded medical science for decades." The scientist's words were accompanied by an expression that Warren read as great anticipation.

'Oh, yes. _Way_ too eager to get their hands on me!' Warren sent to Ztar, but softened it with a mental lightness. Ztar sent soothing feelings to Warren in return. 'You're being all motherly now,' Warren projected in mock scolding. A slight audible chuckle escaped Ztar and he cleared his throat to cover it, which garnered an interesting look from Damymours'de.

"You are welcome," Warren quickly said to Damymours'de. "I am happy to contribute in any way I can. Finding a cure will be a medical triumph. Even one more life lost to that disease is too many."

Director Esair indicated his wholehearted agreement with a gesture of hands. "Then shall we begin immediately? Everything is at the ready."

As they strolled through the facility, it reminded Warren of Sarrys station in design and layout. Perhaps a standard design? He asked Ztar.

"Yes, indeed. Sarrys and Fjai are the same class of station."

"And built within a few years of each other," Esiar added. "However, Fjai differs in her weapons capabilities. Obviously, this is not a military station, which Sarrys is. Our fortifications are strictly defensive."

Warren turned to Gragne who was walking next to him. "Are their guns big enough for you?" he asked quietly of the man Warren had come to know slightly more than casually.

"No gun is big enough for me," the elite guardsman shot back with a deadpan face. Warren laughed. Gragne flashed a grin.

After a walk that took them up several decks, the labs loomed. Door after door warned about authorized personnel only. The group came to a halt in front of one such entrance.

"This is where I leave and place you in the hands of Researcher Damymours'de. If you need anything beyond what she can provide, comm me and it will be done. My Emperor, Archangel," the man said with a slight bow, "thank you once again. I will see you this evening if you wish to dine with me and a few honored guests."

Ztar glanced at Archangel. 'You wish to do that or not? Or decide later?' he projected the questions.

Warren was impressed. The Emperor asked instead of answering for both of them automatically. He definitely had learned his lessons well. 'Let's decide later.' Warren had no idea what he would be going through and hated to commit to something and then regret it later.

"I will inform you nearer to that time, Director," Ztar answered. The Director simply nodded.

Damymours'de stepped before Ztar. "My Emperor, Archangel…if you will follow me, we'll begin," she said activating the control for the door.

As Warren walked through the doors, his heart pounded. 'You want to do this. You want to do this. This is of your free choice,' he began a silent mantra to quell the rising anxiety. Then he felt Ztar's hand on his arm and looked up into the man's face.

'I'm right here,' Ztar 'pathed. 'I won't leave your side. Any time you wish, we leave.'

'Thanks.'

Ztar immediately began scanning the people in the room as they followed the researchers. There was much excitement over not only having the Emperor in their midst, but at seeing one of the few known survivors of the W-Q virus. Their anticipation of what they could learn from Archangel was almost palatable. Amongst all the excitement and investigative plans racings through their minds, Ztar found nothing sinister. He quietly let out a sigh of relief. However, he would scan continuously for anything that might change that assessment.

Warren spent the next few hours standing and lying under various scanners, answering questions, giving tissue samples, and waiting as results were reviewed so even more scans could be done with minor adjustments. It was readily apparent to Warren that these researchers were thoroughly familiar with his medical records, the ones Ztar's physician had provided to Fjai during and shortly after he was felled by the virus. Toward the end of the day, Warren sensed they wanted to do more than scan him. And the nannites were generating more and more curiosity in the researchers.

"That will be all for today, Archangel," Damymours'de announced. "We have much data to review overnight. By morning, we will have our next steps outlined and present those for your approval. Are you agreeable to that?" she asked.

What could Warren say other than "Yes"?

"Very good. Then please return here at 9.0. Thank you for your cooperation today." Then she turned to the Emperor who had stood and walked over. "Thank you also, my Emperor, for your patience and tolerance."

Ztar and Warren left the lab, Gragne and the other guards surrounding them. "I feel up to dinner with the gang if you want to go ahead with that, Ztar," Warren offered. He was starving having had nothing to eat since leaving the palace. In fact, he was almost shaky from hunger.

Ztar detected the ravenous sensations emanating from the human. He chided himself for not picking up on it earlier, but he'd been so absorbed in scanning not only those in the room, but generally throughout the facility, he'd missed it.

"I'll send word immediately to Esiar. In the meantime, we should get you a snack. We wouldn't want you to faint from lack of sustenance," Ztar jibed gently.

Warren just smiled and sighed. He'd likely live with that kind of teasing until the day he died.

They entered their assigned quarters, posh accommodations obviously intended for prominent guests. The large suite of rooms provided an open lounge area with ample seating, dining area, bedroom, large bath, and a full kitchen on one end.

"This is bigger than our chambers at the palace!" Warren voiced his appreciation while Ztar poked his head into the bedroom. 'Not surprising where _his_ priorities are,' Warren mused to himself.

"No fireplace, though," the man sounded disappointed.

After a quick trip to the bathroom, Warren went straight for food storage. Opening the doors, he found the kitchen well stocked. Ztar walked in behind him and opened the obvious liquor cabinet.

"Good, we have Dison. Sukja said he'd let them know."

"Zante, too! Sukja's a good man," Warren replied, grabbing the container of his favorite sweet biscuit. "This should tie me over," he said ripping open the box and taking a large bite.

Ztar placed the comm call to the Director and dinner plans were set for one standard hour. Ztar poured two glasses of Dison and the men moved over to the sitting area and put their feet up.

"What did you learn from scanning?" Warren asked, his mouth half-full of zante. 'One biscuit may not do it 'til dinner.'

Ztar smiled, amused at the sight of his companion devouring the sweet biscuit with gusto. "So far, I've found no evidence of anything but honorable intentions. I'll keep scanning, though."

"Did you pick up anything about their plans for tomorrow, other than what they shared?"

"Damymours'de believes they've gathered as much as they're able through regular scans and samples. The nannites intrigue her, as we knew they would. She wants to delve deeper into that, but is hesitant because of the restrictions we outlined. It seems she's beginning to believe as Chenro does that either the nannites were responsible for your recovery or something else altogether as she's found nothing in your general physical makeup capable of that, your healing ability included."

Warren contemplated that for a bit. "Perhaps we could ask them to pursue the something-else-altogether first. That may dovetail into what I want out of this – an answer to that glow you've seen twice now. And since you've seen it when neither the nannites or your energy field were active, it's apparently a standalone phenomenon."

"It would seem to be the case. If that turns out to be the secret of your survival, then we might avoid the nannite issue completely."

Warren sipped the Dison. "Exactly. We'll see how that idea goes over tomorrow. Or should we comm Damymours'de tonight so they don't make plans for a nannite investigation?"

Ztar set his glass down. "Good point. Do you want to comm her or should I?"

"I'll do it," Warren offered, getting up. "The request shouldn't surprise her. They know what I want out of this for myself, right?"

"Yes, that was made clear."

While Archangel took care of the researcher, Ztar considered imperial matters. The Etagllot, to be precise. Gtar-Cro's people were making headway, but the elusive organization was notoriously hard to find, let alone eradicate. Eradication may be a pipe dream, Ztar admitted with resignation, knowing they had footholds in both the Par-Sen system and Commonwealth. Yet they would try. So much was riding on success – the protection of the varied species of his Empire, in particular the humans and Archangel, and the stability of his new government. He would do whatever was necessary to protect the empire and its people.

Another point plaguing him was Gtar-Cro's mention that there may be an overall goal to the Etagllot's research agenda. Ztar had re-examined the detailed reports about Etagllot experiments in the Par-Sen system and from what they were able to deduce from Ymoz and Hydeera. A pattern was there and the picture it was forming disturbed him.

The outpost on Ymoz had been a biotech facility – that they knew without doubt. Other suspected experiments involved DNA manipulation and splicing; particularly with DNA from naturally occurring mutants, tissue transmutation, and brain function augmentation. All if it seemingly geared to altering the genetic structure of high-level organisms; not to simply augment, but to alter _potential_. What was the Etagllot working toward? His second review only reinforced his earlier theory – creation of a super-species. Were the illicit scientists trying to create god-like beings? To what ultimate end? Possible answers sent chills through him.

Ztar knew of beings in the universe already in possession of near god-like power. A tiny number of Earth's mutants were one example. If you took potent physical abilities, added unchallenged intellect, and threw in the power to manipulate or perhaps alter matter itself with only your mind, you would be a god. That is what the reports hinted at. And who could stand up against a race of gods? It was a very frightening scenario and one Ztar prayed he was wrong about. Just then, Archangel came back to the sitting area.

"It's all set. She seemed a little disappointed in the diversion away from the nannites, but will cooperate."

"What choice does she have? If they don't abide by our wishes, we leave," Ztar pointed out.

"True, but I'd rather not make anyone too unhappy. An angry scientist with nasty-looking medical instruments in hand makes me nervous!" Warren quipped with the grin.

After talking for bit about less troubling topics as Sukja's second attempt at a vacation on Sat'rey while Ztar and Archangel were on Fjai, they rose to freshen up before leaving to dine with the Director. Just before Warren activated the door, Ztar pulled him in close for a tender embrace.

"Have I told you lately I love you?"

The quick grab took Warren a bit by surprise. "As a matter of fact, you did last night." He watched Ztar's eyes. He didn't see the usual lust he would have expected. Instead, it was a look of something he couldn't place.

"You will always be special to me. You hold a place in my soul that no one else ever will." Ztar was surprised at the words he really hadn't planned to say. They held hints of good-bye. Was he letting go? He didn't want to.

Warren wasn't sure what he was hearing and feeling from the Emperor, but his instincts said Ztar was preparing himself for something. For Warren leaving?

To cover the awkwardness, Ztar took Archangel's mouth into his and savored the sweet kiss he loved so very much. Then he pulled back. "We should go – the Director is waiting."

"And so is my stomach!" Warren chuckled, but his thoughts were no longer on food.

### --- ###

Day two was intense. Warren decided that micro-energy scans were not something he'd like to have done on a regular basis. They were long, uncomfortable, and made him feel like he itched on the inside, right down to his cell walls. He endured three of them, each one geared to a slightly different energy spectrum. The final scan in particular was exceedingly sensitive to latent energy potential within organisms. That was the one he was most interested in learning the results of, but he'd have to wait until the scientists reviewed the data.

That night, they lay curled together, Warren tucked into Ztar's shoulder and chest with the Emperor's powerful arms wrapped around him protectively. Warren felt safe and restful there. The sex they'd just had was amazing as it always was with Ztar. No one else would ever come close to matching the white-hot desire Ztar could create in him. It mattered not at all that Ztar was a man as far as Warren's body was concerned. The Turzent was simply the best lover Warren had or ever would have, of that he had no doubts.

Ztar wanted to stay as they were for all eternity, yet his time with his companion was growing short. Archangel had made it clear that when Ztar was ready, he'd go. The empath felt Archangel was sensing that time was coming. He swallowed hard with the knowing. If only Archangel could truly love him; the way Ztar loved Archangel, but you can't force that into being. Archangel loved him as much as was possible under the circumstances, that Ztar believed, yet it wasn't enough for either of them long term.

And so his beloved companion would likely leave him soon and he wanted to cry at the mere thought. He did not. Instead, he drew Archangel closer and took his mouth in a kiss from his very soul. In the station far above the planet, with the view of Sat'rey and the stars beyond shining softly through the windows, he made love again to his precious Esserru.

"Tell me you are beautiful," he prodded Archangel as they basked in the afterglow of sex for a second time. "Let me hear you say it."

Warren looked up at the man above him. "I'm tired," Warren replied wearily. Round two of lovemaking left Warren exhausted. The second go-round, he had conjured the passionate energy and it always left him drained. He wanted to sleep, but Ztar was pushing the "learn to love yourself" issue again.

"Just say it, Archangel. One time. Humor me." Ztar wanted Archangel to voice the words. He wanted to help the man to heal. He felt it important for Archangel say those words aloud.

"I feel weird saying it. Can't we just go to sleep?" he said letting a yawn escape to emphasize his point.

"Please, you need to say it. I feel you must."

The man sounded almost desperate. Perhaps if he said it, Ztar would let it go. With a deep sigh, Warren replied. "Very well, if it will make you happy so we can get some sleep. I'm beautiful." Warren hadn't lied; it did make him feel weird.

"Now tell me why," Ztar pushed, brushing his hand across Archangel's cheek.

"Jesus, Ztar. I said it. That's enough for one night. Please, let's go to sleep."

Then Warren saw Ztar's eyes grow moist. 'Shit, now what?' This was not how he wanted to end the night. "Ztar, what's wrong?" he asked trying to hold the strong tug of sleep at bay.

Ztar didn't know where the threatening tears were coming from. All he knew is he desperately wanted to hear Archangel answer. The human's fatigue telegraphed through the empathic connection, as did his discomfort at the request, but Ztar was convinced this had to happen then – that night. A precognitive knowing? He wasn't sure.

"Please, answer. I need to hear it," he said fighting the constriction in his throat.

Warren looked into Ztar's face in an attempt to understand the driving force behind the request, but the face only reflected the plea, not the reason. 'Too bad you're not a telepath, War,' he thought. "What exactly do you want me to say?" he asked aloud.

"Why you're beautiful – on the inside. The outside is obvious."

"Give me an example."

"You're beautiful because you are caring," Ztar answered without hesitation. There were so many things that made Archangel beautiful, the idea that he couldn't come up with any on his own was baffling.

Warren closed his eyes. He really didn't want to do this – it felt egotistical and arrogant. Even if he said the words Ztar wanted to hear, he feared they would ring hollow and upset Ztar even more. The Emperor wanted Warren to heal emotionally and the prodding was obviously a continuation of that effort. For the sake of sleep and to humor Ztar, as the Emperor put it, Warren decided to go along.

Reopening his eyes and sighing gently, he said the obvious. "I'm beautiful because I'm caring and generous."

"What else?" Ztar encouraged, running his fingers through the golden hair.

"I've got a sense of humor?" Warren asked.

"You do. Go on…"

"Loyal."

"Obviously. Tell me more."

Warren was beginning to struggle. "Ztar…"

"Please, tell me something else," he pushed gently.

"I don't know. I'm tough when I need to be."

"Like a dreegna!"

"A what?"

"A mythical creature of stone. You are indeed tough!" Ztar said with a smile, tousling Archangel's hair. "Don't forget self-sacrificing," Ztar suggested almost wincing at the memories that conjured.

Warren was surprised how easily Ztar had said that. Warren had sacrificed, and suffered, so much for the Turzent. "Damn right I am," he said with some feeling. "You can depend on me, too."

"Your Earth friends would agree with you, as do I. They'd also say you're gentle and kind, in spite of all you've been through."

"Usually. Sometimes I'm an asshole."

"As we all are. There's more…"

"I'm out of ideas."

"You're noble. Far more so than I'll ever be."

"More noble than the nobleman," Warren reflected. "I like that."

"Would you say you're feisty?"

Warren smiled at the more pleasant memories that invoked. "I can be when I want to be." He drew his hand through Ztar's black crimson mane. "Sometimes to the point of kicking a certain Emperor's ass."

Ztar chuckled. "Indeed. So let's see what we've decided. Archangel is caring, generous, kind, self-sacrificing, and noble. He's got a sense of humor; is dependable and feisty." Then Ztar gave Archangel a crooked smile. "Oh, and sometimes he's an asshole, but we'll let that go for now."

Warren gave a quick laugh. "You forgot tough – he's as tough as a dreegna," Warren quickly reminded with a smirk. The switch to the third person helped his unease.

"As two dreegnas, I think we should say. And if I dare, I might add he's intelligent and incredibly sexy," Ztar added, sliding his thumb across the full lips.

Warren cuffed the Turzent not so gently on the upper arm. "You would have to slip that last one in. You have a one track mind, I swear."

"Guilty – I cannot deny it. When it comes to you that is." He smiled down at Archangel. The earlier feelings of discomfort from the assessment of the human's character had dissipated. "This Archangel person is truly beautiful on the inside, wouldn't you agree?" Ztar watched the crystalline-blue eyes begin to twinkle. Archangel was about to get feisty.

"Too good for the Emperor, I'd say. What Archangel sees in the likes of him I'll never understand!" Warren said it with a large smile, just so there'd be no mistake that he was teasing.

"Ah, yes. He's forgiving. We nearly forgot that one," Ztar added and then planted a chaste kiss on Archangel's lips.

"To the extreme!" Then Warren held Ztar's gaze for many moments, searching their depths. "He does care a lot about the Emperor, I think we can safely say. Likely because he's proud of the change in the man. Yep, that must be it."

Ztar pulled back slightly with a wryly grin. "You won't change the subject so easily, my Archangel. This is about you, not me."

"Had to try," Warren admitted. "On the other hand, Archangel may just like the sex and he really doesn't give a rat's ass about the Emperor himself," he said with mischievous snicker, poking Ztar in the side to make him jump.

Ztar laughed. "Well, then, if that's all he wants the Emperor for, perhaps another round is required to satisfy the sex-obsessed human."

Warren halted Ztar with hands against the broad shoulders as he lowered down for a kiss. "Not so fast, Emperor. We've another big day tomorrow. I'm not going into that lab with sleep deprivation and neither are you. You've got a lot of mind-snooping to do. Falling asleep on the job is not allowed!"

"Had to try," Ztar replied, echoing Archangel. Laying down to the human's side, he drew him in carefully to avoid any uncomfortable wing positions. With Archangel's head resting on his shoulder, the wings spread around them like a white blanket, the two settled in for the night. Archangel was asleep nearly instantly; it took Ztar a bit longer. He reviewed their conversation and was pleased. 'That went well' was his last thought as sleep came.

### --- ###

The third day began with a meeting to review what had been found thus far.

"So you see, Archangel, why we cannot yet answer the question about the nannites versus another reason for your survival. I'd like to see if we can trigger the energy you've told us about. Our scans are detecting someone akin to suppressed energy potential, but they aren't giving us the full picture. Can you generate the energy at will?"

Warren shot a look to Ztar. The only time he'd manifested any energy by choice was during lovemaking. "Well, yes, there is a type I can, but I'm not sure it's the same thing we're looking for."

Researcher Damymours'de looked puzzled. "Why do you say that? We've only detected one potential energy."

Warren considered the possibility that the passionate energy and the glowing field Ztar saw twice was a variation of the same phenomenon. "The glowing energy seemed different from the one I can call up at will."

"Would you be willing to manifest it while being scanned?"

'O-o-oh, boy,' Warren thought. Things could get interesting if he did that, knowing the effect it had on him and Ztar. Yet he wanted to solve the mystery. "As long as everyone stays back, I'll agree to do that. I don't want anyone caught in the field accidentally."

The female head researcher leaned back in her chair with a considering look. A few moments later, she continued. "This is my proposal. First, we passively scan the field to determine its characteristics. Once we've established that, our scanners are capable of interplaying with certain bio-energies to enhance them for more thorough analysis. If the radiant feature does not manifest on its own, I'd like to try enhancing the field to see if that results in what we're looking for."

Warren was getting a touch nervous with the idea. "If that's what you are considering, then we need to take as many precautions as possible. This makes me uneasy."

Damymours'de leaned forward. "Archangel, I've been a researcher my entire career and my specialty is bio-energies. During those years, I performed countless scans involving energy pattern enhancement. Often times, it is the only way to strengthen the bio-field sufficiently for us to gather data detailed enough to be useful. I've never lost a patient or fellow researcher," she added with a smile.

Ztar extended his thoughts to Archangel. 'Only do this if you want. Don't let her push you into anything that makes you uncomfortable. Though, seeing how others might react to that particular energy field could prove entertaining!' he telepathed with a mental snicker.

Warren sent Ztar a mental zing at the voyeuristic thought. 'If I have my way, they'll be outside its range, so you'll just have to use your imagination!' he 'pathed back.

"I do wish to find out what's going on, so I'll agree to this as long as everyone is kept at a safe distance," he explained to Damymours'de.

"And that distance would be?"

'Shit, I've no idea.' Warren realized. "To be honest, Head Researcher, I don't know. Across the room perhaps or the next lab?"

"We'll start with across the lab and if anyone feels its affects, we'll pull back. Now I just need to know what those affects are."

Warren felt the color flood his face. 'Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea,' he back peddled with embarrassment, sending the thought to Ztar.

'I could answer,' Ztar offered in Archangel's mind, projecting his intent.

Warren hesitated, but then 'Go ahead,' he sighed mentally, heat still flushing his face. If he was going to do this…

"Researcher, may I share a bit of the experience with you telepathically? That should answer all your questions quickly and effectively."

She nodded, eyes slightly widening in anticipation of the mental intrusion. Then Warren watched as the reserved and professionally detached head scientist of the premier medical research facility in the Turzent Empire became flustered and perhaps a touch embarrassed by her body's reaction to the experience.

"Oh my," Damymours'de voiced, and then seemed quite distracted for several seconds. Her hand actually trembled as she held her PI. She cleared her throat and shifted in her seat, obviously struggling to regain her composure. "I- I must say, that is a bio-energy ability I haven't encountered before, at least not in the intensity you've shown me," she noted with an ever so slight smile. "We should proceed cautiously indeed."

Ztar suppressed a chuckle at the images that popped up in the researchers mind at what could happen in her lab if they did not.

"If you are agreeable, we'll set up the tests and begin immediately."

A short while latter, Warren was again beneath a scanner, fists clenched in unease at to what may occur. At the signal, he tried to reach down to pull up the energy and…nothing. 'Shit!'

"Anytime you're ready, Archangel," Damymours'de encouraged from the other side of the lab, hovering over her scan monitors.

'Performance anxiety?' Warren wondered with some humor, sending the thought to Ztar who was standing to Damymours'de's side. He felt Ztar's amusement in return.

Warren tried again. Deeper he went, reaching down where he'd gone so many times before, but it wasn't working. 'Too nervous! This whole setting is freaking me out more than I thought,' he sent to Ztar.

Then he felt Ztar's presence in his mind. 'Can I be of assistance?' Warren quickly agreed. 'Jesus, you'd think I could do this without any effort after all this time!' he sent to Ztar as he felt memories of the previous night flood him and his body instantly ignited.

'If I were egotistical, I'd be proud that you can't do this without being in my bed!' the teasing slipped between the erotic images and sensations.

'You try performing under a microscope with a roomful of people watching!' he retorted, then refocused on the task at hand, allowing himself to go with the arousal Ztar was creating. Memories of Ztar's touch and caress, his fingers running sensually down through his feathers, the Turzent lips across his. He shuddered. His lover sent images/sensations of entering Warren with amazing realism – he barely stifled a moan. 'Jesus, Ztar, not so much!' he sent, fearing he'd had an orgasm right there on the lab table. Warren spiraled rapidly to that level of physical excitement where the energy within seemed to rise up on its own to wait at the gate, so to speak. Warren opened that gate and the waves rushed through him.

"Good, Archangel!" the researcher said, but it barely registered with Warren. He was swept up in the rapture and the world fell away. "Hold it at that level for just a few seconds; then we'll start the interplay."

The "hold it" command found its way through the distance to his mind and he did his best to accommodate with Ztar's continued assistance, but just as he felt he could no longer sustain the effort, an odd sensation rippled through him, something he'd never experienced before. The energy seemed to morph, or shift, or _something_. It was no longer him in control as the energy took on a will of its own. The interplay?

"We've got it, Archangel. You should be feeling a slight change in the energy field now," he heard through what sounded like a vast expanse.

Warren couldn't speak. He was only the energy…floating, pulsating…flaring out beyond his body. The sensation wasn't uncomfortable, but it was odd in an indescribable way. Then it seemed to resettle within the confines of his body and steadily strengthen.

"Don't fight it, Archangel. Just let go."

He realized he was fighting, or more specifically attempting to control, without intending and tried to relax. Again Ztar came to his assistance, reaching down within Warren's mind and touching that place he'd used so many times to calm the old monster within him. Peacefulness poured through Warren and he let the energy completely supplant him. Flashes and glimpses of something taunted him. Memories? He and the Emperor in the middle of a mountain meadow. What was wrong with Ztar? He was crying as they huddled together on the meadow grass. The world was shaking and a blackness closing in. Then the two of them standing in a whiteness that was everywhere. Ztar's hand reaching for his…

The energy morphed again, intensifying with such force that Warren shuddered. Power flooded him and he reveled in its intoxication as it flowed from deep within him…from somewhere beyond him. Limitless, boundless. And then it suddenly reached out…

Across the room, Ztar fell to his knees when the nonphysical shockwave hit him. He was overcome with a euphoria that seemed to permeate every molecule of his existence. 'By the gods!' Ztar gasped, putting his hands to the floor to prevent himself from collapsing completely. He was swimming in ecstasy; there was nothing beyond it. Nothing but it. His mind nearly stopped functioning, wanting only to become part of the rapture…to be only the rapture. To float eternally in the bliss.

A corner of his mind shouted warning. 'Something…is…wrong!' But the rapture wanted him and he wanted it.

'Think, Emperor!' he demanded of himself. Sluggishly, he raised his mental shields, meeting with only limited success, but thinking did become easier. Then he struggled to regain control of his body to look up. It was an effort even to raise his head, but when he did, what he saw took his breath away as it had never had before. The human was no longer lying on the table, but sitting up. A glow radiated from him with such intensity that the human looked unreal – like a golden ghost.

Ztar reached out mentally. The empathic link was no longer functioning, and their telepathic connection was also severed. "Archangel!" he cried in fear, unable to reestablish contact. It was as if the human was no longer there. Ztar tried to get to his feet, but his limbs would not cooperate as sensory overload paralyzed muscles. All he could do was kneel on the floor and stare at the radiant creature before him in stunned awe. Archangel had a vacant look, as if he was somewhere else mentally. Ztar again tried to reconnect with the human's mind, but there was nothing to latch onto. If Ztar didn't see Archangel in front of him, he would not know the man sat there and it frightened him.

"My Archangel!" His companion did not respond.

Ztar stole a look at Damymours'de and the other scientists. They were all on the floor in various states of entrancement. "Damymours'de! Stop the experiment!"

He looked at the beings around him. This was all familiar somehow. Entranced beings kneeling before him, their eyes locked upon him. Expanding his awareness, he encountered other beings, all of them so fragile, so delicate. Some with deep pains of the soul. He could feel it. That was not as it should be. Souls should be peaceful and content.

"Damymours'de!" Ztar called out both aloud and telepathically. She did not respond, but merely sat with her eyes transfixed on Archangel. Ztar reached into her mind and saw how to turn off the equipment. Driven by fear bordering on panic, he managed to gain enough muscle control to crawl the few feet to the control station Damymours'de had been tending.

He pressed outward to the souls filling the small bubble of air in space, drawn to their need.

Ztar pulled himself upright with tremendous effort. A quick glance at Archangel showed the human still unmoving, seemingly unaware of his surroundings.

He reached further, almost touching…

Ztar hit the control to shut down the interplay and Archangel screamed.

### --- ###

_Just what is the energy that Warren's been manifesting these past few years? Perhaps we'll get some answers next chapter. Plus, Ztar comes to a decision. _


	17. Chapter 17

_This chapter proved to me the value of leaving what you've written for a while before making the final edits. Some of it I was pleased with and that stands as written, but the rest I completely overhauled. Still not convinced it's as good as it could be, but as I did once before, I'm moving on. All the key points I wanted to make are here – primarily to wrap up some of the questions concerning Warren. Other mysteries remain unsolved. And Ztar and Warren both contemplate the future._

**Chapter 17**

He blinked and the blurriness began clearing. The face above him was Ztar's. He felt strange – oddly depleted, yet not exhausted. With a start, he realized he had no idea where he was.

"My Archangel," Ztar said, brushing his hand reassuringly across his lover's cheek. "Thank the gods!"

Warren became aware of others surrounding them. He looked to either side where strangers were crowded around, various devices in their hands apparently taking readings from him. Recollection began to form. He was on Fjai. They had been running an experiment. He had called up the energy and the scientists had begun interplaying with its field. There his memories ceased.

"What happened?" he asked of the gathering.

"I think we found more than any of us anticipated," Damymours'de replied with a hand gesture meant to add great emphasis. She motioned for the others to step back.

"Ztar?" He hoped the Turzent would clarify as he struggled to sit up. He was uncomfortable resting on his wings even with the special padding the technicians had added for him early on in their testing. Ztar helped him get vertical.

"We saw the glow," Ztar answered simply. "Do you remember anything?"

Warren tried to pull up more memories. Something was there. He focused harder. Then whatever it was dissipated. He shook his head. "Nothing past a few moments after I felt the energy begin to change from what I assume was the scanner interplay. I remember feeling the energy grow stronger, then nothing."

"Archangel, I'm going to send you back to your quarters to rest and let the Emperor fill you in. My staff and I have a lot of data to review. We'll meet later to discuss the preliminary findings." Damymours'de looked to Ztar. "If that's acceptable to you, Emperor."

Ztar only nodded, more focused on getting Archangel out of the lab.

As his feet touched the floor, Warren held to Ztar while he got his land-legs back. He was unsteady and leaned against the Emperor's sturdy frame. "What _happened_?"

"I'll explain everything after we've gotten you back to our chambers."

The head researcher looked with concern at Warren. "Do you require assistance? We could-"

"I've got him," Ztar cut in, strong feelings of protectiveness hitting him. He didn't want the scientists touching Archangel.

As the two men made their way in silence through the corridors to their nearby chambers, Ztar considered what he saw. Labeling Archangel an Esserru for the past few years was one thing, to see what could truly be such a creature left him shaken nearly to his core.

'By the gods, is that what he _really_ is?!' The idea that one of the legendary beings may actually live and been in his presence for over five years was almost inconceivable. 'Don't jump to conclusion, Emperor. It could still be that Archangel merely resembles the Esserru. The universe is full of improbabilities and coincidences.'

Yet he couldn't help but let his imagination race. The physical resemblance to the legendary being. The passionate energy. The golden glow. A miraculous recovery from a disease fatal 99.99% of the time. His healing of Ztar's soul against all odds. That one special bonding they shared when something passed between them that left Archangel drained to exhaustion yet energized Ztar. It all matched lore – all so obvious. But if true, why was Archangel ignorant to what he was?

Ztar palmed the door control and they entered their station lodgings, the Turzent steering Warren directly to the sitting area. He had held his tongue while they walked; now he wanted to know what had Ztar so tense.

"Okay, give, Ztar. What happened in there?" Warren demanded gently.

"Let me get you some coffee and a zante first. You're trembling."

'I am?' Warren checked. He was. "Jesus, Ztar. What the hell?"

Ztar moved quickly, warming and pouring coffee left over from breakfast and grabbing a biscuit.

Warren took the food and drink with slightly shaky hands and took a bite and a sip. It was what he needed, but hadn't realized. As the food and drink hit his stomach, he felt near instant relief. Ztar watched him attentively.

"Better?" the man asked.

Warren nodded, his mouth full of another piece of zante. Swallowing, he gave Ztar an inquisitive look to encourage him to start talking.

"To pick up where your memory leaves off, when Damymours'de first started to interplay the scanners with your energy field, all was fine. She increased the intensity of the field slowly. Then she began doing something else – shifting the field patterns, I believe. That's when the field nearly exploded."

"There was an explosion?!" Warren was stunned.

"Not a physical explosion. The field went suddenly from being just around you to filling the room. It was…it was like nothing I've ever experienced with you. When it hit, we all dropped to the floor. It was nearly impossible to move, as if we were paralyzed, but not really. Hard to explain. But the sensations coming off you were – amazing…rapturous. Suddenly, you were sitting up, but I don't think you knew we were there. You looked far away."

"You mean like in a trance?"

Ztar nodded. "And the golden glow was so _intense_. You looked…" Ztar looked deep into the crystalline-blue eyes that were locked with his in rapt interest. "You looked like…" he stammered, which was so unlike him. He was getting caught up in the wonder again. "We were transfixed by your beauty, my Archangel! You were ethereal – beautiful beyond words. And the bliss – it was overwhelming. The others…they couldn't look away – couldn't move. And it was as if you weren't there! No empathic link. No telepathic connection. Nothing! If I didn't see you sitting there, I would have thought you were gone. That frightened me. Maybe that's why I was able to move, but barely. I had to stop the test." He paused to catch his breath. The retelling was driving home the experience. "How you looked…what I saw…" he shook his head at the awe-inspiring memory. "In the name of all the gods, you truly _are_ an Esserru!" Ztar exclaimed in a near whisper, his eyes wide.

Ztar was almost babbling. The man was overreacting to the obvious full manifestation of his mutant ability. It can be overwhelming and frightening when a power first erupts or suddenly flares to its full potential, especially considering the unique nature of Warren's ability.

"Ztar, what you are describing is nothing new. We've seen all of that before, just in smaller dozes. I'm not an Esserru," he said gently but firmly, setting his cup down. He felt steadier.

Ztar wasn't convinced. "We have and I've been blind. I should have realized before. I think my subconscious knew what my conscious mind didn't dare believe, and so I called you my Esserru, but in name only. Now I've seen you for what you are. The legends are true!" He wanted to believe. Perhaps he needed to believe in the unbelievable.

'Oh, boy.' Warren was a human mutant, nothing more. He was no mythical being from Turzent legend or anyone else's legend. There was some speculation he may be an atavism to the winged beings from Earth's past called Cheyarafim, but even that couldn't be proven.

"Ztar, listen to me. I am a mutant. I am human. Nothing more. I may resemble your Esserru, but that is all. This energy I have is like energies other mutants have, it just manifests in its own unique way. It's a bio-energy, like yours. And as far as we know, you're not a supernatural being either."

Ztar sat back, Archangel's words were dissolving the spell. Was he right? Could this all simply be a wild coincidence and Archangel was just what he claimed? That would explain his lack of awareness of being a powerful Esserru. Still…

"I will put my belief on hold until we hear the report from Damymours'de. Perhaps that will shed more light on this."

Warren sighed with relief. "Fair enough."

"You're feeling better?" Ztar asked, seeing that Archangel's color had improved and he had ceased trembling.

Warren nodded. Fatigue was beginning to grip him. "The coffee and zante did the trick. Must have released a lot more energy than typical to have that much of an effect on everyone. I think I need a quick snooze, though."

Ztar immediately got up and helped Archangel to his feet. Once the human was settled onto the bed, he climbed in next to him, wrapping him in his arms. Archangel was asleep quickly, but Ztar wasn't tired. As he watched Archangel sleep, the scene replayed over and over again in his mind. The loss of empathic connection, Ztar's inability to "see" Archangel telepathically, and the human's trance-like state during the incident all troubled him. In that moment, he made a decision. Ztar rose carefully as to not wake Archangel to place a comm call. He'd bravely face any resulting ire or empty-bed consequences if it protected his companion.

###

A few hours later, Damymours'de commed that whenever the Emperor and Archangel were ready, they had a preliminary report. Within minutes, they were seated in the head researcher's office.

Ztar was uneasy. He hadn't broken the news to Archangel regarding the decision he made on the human's behalf. Foolish, he knew, but he hadn't wanted to face the possible wrath any sooner than necessary. Archangel would have to hold his tongue when the researcher brought it up. Perhaps that would soften any adverse reaction. Ztar stole a nervous glance at Archangel. That was his hope.

"Archangel," the researcher began, smiling in a way that made Warren feel like a prized trophy, "I must admit that in all my years of studying bio-energies, I've never encountered anything quite like what you displayed today. It was truly…remarkable!" Her tone and body language reflected controlled excitement.

'Oh, jeez,' Warren bemoaned silently. He'd hope the experienced researcher would have a more impassive response. Ztar shot him a quick sideways glance.

"I want to clarify up front that we still have no answer as to what caused the W-Q virus to be eradicated. We have concluded that was not your immune system. And your regenerative ability…while it managed to keep you alive far longer than a typical W-Q victim, data doesn't support that ability being able to eradicate the infection. That leaves us with either the energy you manifest or the nannites."

"Any idea which?"

"Not without more study. Perhaps in the future you will allow us to pursue _all_ possibilities." Warren knew exactly what she meant with the emphasis on 'all.' They wanted to study the nannites. "But I understand your hesitation and why the Emperor has postponed any further research."

Warren turned to lock eyes with Ztar. 'You decided that without asking me?' the accusation flew.

'Just for now. What happened in the lab frightens me. I don't want them to pressure you into any more tests this visit. Later, if you wish to continue, that is your decision entirely.'

'Damn right it is!' But Warren wasn't really upset. He'd had enough of labs for awhile.

"I'm sorry that we haven't answered the question of my survival," Warren apologized. "I'd hope for another miracle in that you'd find a quick answer and a cure. In retrospect, if it was easy, you'd have found a cure long ago."

"You are correct, but we'll not give up trying." She fiddled with her PI, seeming to be checking data, before continuing. "Now to our findings on your energy field. To put it simply, Archangel, you cannot manifest the energy you do. There is nothing in your biological makeup that permits that level of energy production. The latent pattern we found is simply too weak. Nearly all bio-energies are the result of standard or variants of known biological functions, natural occurring or augmented. But you," she waved at her PI containing the research data, "have no such biological mechanisms. We found pathways for the energy to flow, but no energy source. No method to create the energy. The only explanation is that you are a conduit of energy produced elsewhere." She left the idea hang.

"The nannites?" was the first possibility that came to Warren.

The researched gestured a negative. "No. The nannites are completely dormant. We had three scanners running during the last test and not one even hinted that the nannites activated. If they had, we'd know."

Now Warren was baffled. "Then where…"

"…is the energy coming from? We have no answer. Conventional and accepted theories fail us."

The woman was hinting at something. "How about unconventional theory?"

She sat back and looked carefully at Warren. To him, she looked like a person ready to go out on a limb and not sure of the reaction. "There is a report from over twenty standard years ago that may have possible, and I mean _possible_, relevance. I'm not certain of their research protocols or the validity of the data, but there are similarities to your situation." She leaned forward and held Warren's gaze. "This is just my reaching for anything that may lead us in the right direction. We are far from any final conclusions. Do you understand?"

Warren nodded. This researcher had his total attention. What was she so hesitant about?

"Emperor, unfortunately, the research I'm talking about is Etagllot. It's a long story of how Fjai came to possess the data, but it was through legitimate channels. If you are agreeable, I will share it."

Ztar wasn't keen on Fjai using Etagllot research no matter how legitimately acquired, but if it helped Archangel understand his ability, he'd allow it. "Proceed."

She grabbed her PI, tapped in a few commands, then set the device in front of Warren. "This image is of a test subject the Etagllot had in their possession twenty-some years ago."

Warren did a double take. It looked like him! Blond hair, white wings, and slender build. "Who is that?"

"The Etagllot scientist claimed he was from a race of beings called the Eshaaru. Does that name mean anything to you?"

Warren swallowed. "It sounds like Esserru." He felt Ztar's eyes on him instantly.

"Esserru is the Turzent variant of the name. If that man was indeed Eshaaru, then he represents the only one of his kind to have been seen in a _very_ long time."

Warren's mind was spinning. Not talk of Esserrus again! "Maybe he's just a mutant like me."

"The report states the male was examined thoroughly and fit the species profile the Etagllot developed for the Eshaaru."

"No one has seen an Eshaaru for…how long? How can anyone create a valid profile for a species not seen in generations? I've read that there's little proof they even ever existed," he countered, feeling tense. He didn't like where this was heading.

"Archangel, I'm going simply by the report and it claims the Etagllot possessed a species profile and the subject fit that profile. Remember, this is an exercise in unconventional theory."

"So you're going to propose I'm Eshaaru?" He got directly to the point.

"I wouldn't go that far. The report does not contain the profile specifications so we cannot directly compare your genetic profile to claimed Eshaaru profile. However, if we look at the data the Etagllot researcher gathered on the dying man…" she took back her PI and brought up relevant data.

'Dying?'

"…we see that he has nearly all of your biological characteristics."

"You said _nearly_, not all. That would seem to indicate we're not the same," Warren pointed out.

"The differences are not unlike the slight variations between one individual's bio-makeup and another individual of the same species many generations later. Species contain variations amongst its members, some environmentally driven and others generational. Sometimes differences are quite dramatic as in the case of mutations, yet they are still the same species."

Warren nodded. Humans were a prime example. "You have DNA data from this man?"

"Unfortunately, we do not. The genetic sequencing data has been lost as far as we know," Damymours'de said with obvious disappointment. "But of interest to us at the moment is the anomalous bio-energy field he generated. Keep in mind that the data was collected with equipment of 20 years ago, but the technology hasn't advanced so much as to cause readings to be doubted. The Etagllot found the same indeterminable source for this man's energy as we found in you today. He shouldn't have been able to create the amount of bio-energy the Etagllot researcher measured."

"Did the Etagllot figure out where the man's bio-energy came from?"

"No, but they had a theory. The same theory I'm considering."

"Which is?"

"The pathways or conduits we found allow energy to flow through your body. The test subject had those same pathways. The Etagllot scientist scanned not only the subject while the energy was manifested, but the space around the subject. He discovered what he claimed to be the faint signature of a dimensional portal while the bio-field was active. His theory was that the subject tapped into an energy source from another reality and that energy flowed through the subject following the pathways."

Warren wanted to say it all sounded far-fetched, but he'd seen too much in his life to discard the theory. Energy channeling was a known ability within the mutant community. And other dimensions? Oh, yea, he knew about those. It would explain why no one had found him to have substantial energy potential before in other scans he'd gone through. The more he considered it, the more it made sense. That part he found hard to swallow was the Eshaaru connection.

"Researcher Damymours'de, you may be onto something. The theory answers several questions. However, my being the same species as the man from 20 years ago – that I'm not buying. I'm not the only winged person on my planet and I've been confirmed human several times over. I'm not an Eshaaru – not possible."

"That may be, Archangel, but if the data we have on the Etagllot research subject is correct, his biology mimics your own. He could pass as your brother. In addition, unless the other winged individuals on your planet have the same energy channeling ability, the same recuperative abilities, the same unique lifeforce anomaly, then there may only be an external resemblance between you and them."

Warren mentally jerked. "Wait a minute. Back up. What do you mean, lifeforce anomaly?"

"I apologize – we hadn't gotten that far. We found an unexplainable oddity. By lifeforce, I mean the energy signature that is-"

"-unique to each individual," Warren interrupted, "with the odds being impossibly small of two individuals having precisely the same lifeforce pattern. Yes, I know. Been there, done that, too. The Shi'ar were very thorough when they attempted to rid me of the nannites."

"They told you about the anomaly then."

Warren frowned. He recalled no such discussion. "Not exactly…"

Damymours'de smiled delicately and then continued. "We need to do more scanning, but it appears you have two lifeforce patterns. That is an impossibility," she said with finality.

"I have two patterns? The nannites?"

"No. The nannites are not alive."

"But then how?"

"We don't know. And I don't even have a theory to offer." The scientist waved her hand to emphasize her dismay. "What we do know is that the subject in the Etagllot lab also had a secondary pattern. What the data is telling me is we have two beings, nearly identical in all ways, both are energy channelers, both impossibly having two lifeforce patterns." She leaned forward and looked Warren squarely in the eyes. "Set aside all the preconceptions associated with the name Esserru and look at that man as simply another species. While we cannot compare your DNA to his, if we believe the Etagllot data, everything suggests you and he are of the same species."

Warren crossed his arms. "Which brings us back to him being human. If we are so alike, I find that a more reasonable explanation. That man and I share a mutation. The Etagllot kidnapped a human mutant 20 years ago. They were at the height of their power this region of space at that time. It is plausible they discovered the rapidly expanding mutant population on my homeworld and this man is one."

The scientist indicated doubt with a hand gesture. "The researcher was quite clear in his description of the test subject. A male specimen of the race known as Eshaaru who had been acquired very far from Earth." She leaned back and studied Warren.

'What's she thinking, Ztar?' he projected.

'Whether to keep pushing or let it go,' the answer came so quickly it was obvious Ztar had been reading her already.

Ztar read in the researcher's mind that that there was so much more she wanted to say. More evidence that she hadn't yet shared linking Archangel and the supposed Eshaaru test subject. Yet she hesitated. Ztar reached out empathically to his long-time companion. The feelings coming were a blend of conviction and anxiety. Ztar felt a sudden certainty – Archangel didn't want to be anything other than human. Archangel _needed_ to be wholly human.

'Don't push this, Head Researcher,' he put ever so gently into her mind. Her eyes shot up to his.

Warren observed a slight surprise in Damymours'de. A quick look over at Ztar and he suspected the telepath was in silent communication with the scientist, yet not certain.

Damymours'de returned her look to Warren. "You make valid points, Archangel. Another theory would be that certain humans carry Eshaaru DNA and occasionally that is reawakened, such as in you and perhaps other mutants on Earth. The universe is filled with what appear to be impossible coincidences and cross-connections of species. We've simply not enough data to draw any conclusions. As I had said, our report is preliminary. May I propose that we continue our analysis and report back to you when we've completed that task? We may still find the answer as whether or not your energy field resulted in saving you from the W-Q virus – the purpose of your visit here."

Warren was relieved. No way he was anything other than what he was – human mutant. Why people kept wanting it otherwise, he couldn't quite understand. First, some people wanted to say he was a true angel, then a member of the Cheyarafims, now an Esserru or Eshaaru. Perhaps there was a deep-seated need in people to find their mythical icons still alive and well. He was tired of it. Tired of people seeing him as something special, something they desired, something they needed him to be that had nothing to do with who he was or what he wanted. He wanted to be Warren Worthington – rich guy from New York; so very human, so very common.

"Yes, researcher, let's not lose track of the reason I came and focus on that," he said with authority. Grasping at links to Esserrus would end here and now. "I appreciate your efforts to pursue my request, and you've given me some answers. Knowing I'm channeling energy from a source outside of myself is sufficient. It explains much. Thank you for that," he concluded with a grateful smile.

"Then, my Emperor, Archangel, your time here is at an end. We will perform a full analysis of the data in over the next days and weeks. Perhaps we will yet find a clue as to how you survived the W-Q virus. If we're unsuccessful, I ask that you consider visiting us again for further study."

Ztar stood and Warren followed suit, effectively ending the meeting. "I will seriously consider your request should nothing come of the data you already have," Warren offered, uncertain if he'd ever have that opportunity.

The scientist stood last. "I will forward my final report to you when complete. Thank you both for your time and your cooperation. It has been an honor to meet you, Emperor, and you, Archangel," she said with a bow of the head.

As they made their way back to their chambers, Warren considered what he'd learned. An energy channeler – but where was the energy coming from and why did it manifest the way it did, in such an erotic fashion? Were there dangers in what he had been doing? Long-term affects to both him and Ztar that they didn't realize? If he was producing the energy, he'd feel less concerned, but energy from perhaps another dimension, that worried him. Just because you can channel something, doesn't mean it's safe. Yet nothing bad had happened in five years.

"What are you thinking, my Archangel?" Ztar asked as they neared the room. Was he upset about Ztar's decision? Yet he sensed no anger in the human, only unease.

"About the energy being from someplace outside this dimension. That worries me."

Ztar activated the door. "Why?"

They entered to the room where they'd be only long enough to gather a few things before leaving.

"Because we're playing with something we know nothing about. What's happening on the other side that we can't see? Worst case scenario, what if I'm tapping into another being and draining their lifeforce every time I use it?"

Ztar stopped in his tracks and looked at his companion. "That seems rather extreme."

"Maybe, maybe not. We don't know. That's the point."

"It seems much more likely you're tapping into some vast energy reserve the universe holds and not something as specific as another being."

Warren walked to the bathroom to grab his stuff. "Perhaps. Unfortunately, there is no way to know. I'm leaning toward saying we shouldn't do that anymore."

Ztar didn't want to hear that. The passionate energy was too wonderful to give up on such far-fetched speculation. Yet it was wholly Archangel's decision.

"Consider this, then," he said coming up next to the human. "The gods – the universe – are wise. They brought us together for example, and in spite of ourselves, it resulted in many positive outcomes we could never have imagined in our limited perspective. I trust those forces. If they gave you the ability to channel that energy, it was for a purpose."

Warren shook his head. "I've seen too many people who say they were given power by god and used that as an excuse to wield it without regard to the consequences. There are always consequences – some good and some not so good. Having power does not automatically give you the right or the wisdom to use it."

"I will not argue with you on that. But you wise, my Archangel. You have shown yourself to be an instrument of the gods. They have put that ability into your hands. Don't turn your back on the gift."

Ztar was getting religious on him. Religious belief was something they rarely discussed and Ztar never pushed it on him, but the Turzent placed his faith in the Sat'rey gods and Warren didn't. Yet the base belief was almost universal – that a higher power influenced ordinary lives. Warren believed in a higher power, he just wasn't sure what it was.

"I'll think about it, Ztar. In the meantime, we'll use it with discretion. Deal?" It had been five-plus years after all, and neither Ztar nor he had shown any signs of ill effect. And he had to admit, it was a very delightful ability to have.

"Deal," Ztar replied with relief. He always looked forward to those nights when Archangel chose to share that gift with him. It was an ecstasy beyond words. Ztar quietly watched as Archangel gathered his few belongings for the trip back until curiosity could no longer be denied. "You're not upset with me about deciding against more tests?" he asked cautiously.

Warren studied the Emperor for a moment. The man looked prepared to have his ass chewed. Warren smiled. "Under other circumstances, probably. This time…no. I had hoped for more on the virus cure front, but things didn't shake out that way. Maybe they'll find something when they go back over the data. This may sound selfish and cold, but right now I'm done with tests and scans and being a lab rat. Perhaps I'll come back another time if they want me to."

Ztar breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you for understanding."

"You mean, thanks for not chewing your royal ass!" Warren clarified with a chuckle.

They finished packing up and within the hour were back at the palace where Warren reviewed again what had transpired on Fjai. He was both pleased and disheartened. Fjai had provided a few more answers, yet the biggest question remained. How did he survive the virus? If it wasn't the nannites, was it the channeled energy? If so, could he use that energy to heal others? And could the Fjai researchers find a way to mimic the energy in a way to heal virus victims? He hoped that would be the outcome. And if they could take the nannites out of the equation entirely, Warren would be extremely happy. He'd be far more at ease if they had remained dormant when he technically died and not at all involved in the last-second miracle recovery.

Then the conversation with Merryth came to him about outliving everyone around you. Yes, if the nannites would someday allow him to die, he'd be much happier.

### --- ###

The grounds were quiet on the sunset side of the palace as Ztar sat on a bench against the building letting the last rays of sun bathe him as it touched the horizon. Spring was coming to the Imperial Valley, but the cool winds of late winter still hung on. He was feeling introspective, and the reflecting pool stretched out before him mirrored his mood.

So much had changed over the course of the last few years. Five years ago, he was a conqueror, still feeling the need for territorial expansion and the drive to acquire and control. He was also a man who had dug himself into a deep, black emotional pit. A man who to most around him appeared to be in control, confident, and in need of little. What people did not see was the private hell he endured each night. So needing a partner who fulfilled and never finding one despite attempt after frustrating attempt.

Pain and anger had grown to the point where he had devolved into a monstrosity in the bedchamber, taking from innocent bedmates what he needed without care for the mental or physical anguish inflicted. The void had overwhelmed any sense of morality in its unrelenting pursuit to be filled. Then came Archangel. His soul-saving Archangel.

'My gods, where would I be today without him?' Ztar didn't even want to imagine as a breeze suddenly caught up his hair, sending a slight shiver through him. He would still be that monster; perhaps so much so that he may not have been unable to hide it from others. And the switch from a dictatorship to an imperiocratic government? Unlikely that would be occurring either. In fact, the opposite may have come to be – Ztar may have become more controlling as rage and despair and unmet need eroded his soul.

Nor would he have strengthened his relationships with his inner circle. Since Archangel, he had gradually come to desire closer ties to his Imperial staff, in particular General Gtar-Cro. And then there was Jharda Myrundra. His Jharda. Their love from years ago had been rekindled and now burned hot and more deeply than it had before to the point they planned to build a life together. Her empress to his emperor. Someone to bear his heirs to continue his genetic line and legacy. Someone to share the burdens and grow old with. It was perfect.

Except for Archangel.

Ztar watched as the sun dropped below the horizon. It would grow dark and cold quickly.

He loved the human. He wanted the human. Each time he bedded his winged companion, there was no Jharda – only Archangel. As much as it pained Ztar, the same could not be said when he bedded Jharda. Memories of the incredible pleasures that only be found with the human would flash across his mind. Jharda was beautiful; she was sensual; she was joyful play, but she was not Archangel.

Archangel had promised to stay until Ztar no longer needed him. While Ztar wanted the human, he now could say with conviction he no longer needed him. Ztar felt he could likely give up Archangel and find enough fulfillment with Jharda to be happy in most ways. In the back of his mind, though, doubt whispered. He feared he could grow frustrated with Jharda's inability to fully satisfy him sexually. Once you've had the best, it is very difficult to settle for less. Would he revert to what he was? Ztar didn't think so, but that can be easy to believe when not living it.

Yet Ztar needed to let one of them go. Jharda wanted Ztar in a monogamous relationship and Archangel wanted to return to Earth. The choice was both obvious and exceedingly painful. Archangel needed to go home. However, he showed no signs of leaving. In fact, the opposite may be the case. Archangel seemed more settled than ever. In addition, Ztar had empathically sensed flickers and wisps of perhaps deeper feelings than what the human admitted to. Had Ztar actually accomplished what he had hoped when first bringing Archangel to Sat'rey? Had the man grown to love him in spite of his nature and all the previous wrongs Ztar had committed against him? If he did, then Ztar had been granted a third miracle involving the human.

Yet doubt surrounded the third possible miracle. What was exact nature of any love Archangel felt toward him? There are many forms of love and the snatches he was picking up from Archangel may be a friendship or companionship love, not a deeply passionate lover's love.

Even if Archangel so loved him that he'd choose to stay, there was Jharda. Ztar wanted a lifemate and all that came with it. If Archangel remained, Jharda would likely go. Maybe not immediately, but eventually. She would grow to resent the human, which to her credit she did not as yet, but her patience was wearing thin. Each time they were together, she delicately, gently pressed and encouraged removing Archangel from the equation. And she was right to do so. Regardless that most previous emperors had both mates and companions, it was not really Ztar's way. Not once in his entire adult life had he had more than one lover at a time, until recently. He had been wise in choosing through the years to stay monogamous in his pairings. Less complicated; no deceit.

The cooling air started to bite. He crossed his arms in front of him to retain some warmth. 'It is abundantly clear, mighty emperor, Archangel must leave. Soon.'

He had promised Archangel's friend that he'd push Archangel out if need be. At the time, Ztar didn't think it would come to that. If it did, forcing his companion to leave may have taken more strength and resolve than he had at the time. 'Now, though, the strength might be there,' he offered himself.

Before anything happened, Ztar needed ensure Archangel would be safe away Sat'rey. A comm to Gtar-Cro and Rehsaw was the first order of business. The Etagllot must not be able to reach Archangel on Earth. If his companion returned home only to be snatched again by his old enemy, Ztar would never forgive himself. Earth must be as heavily guarded as Sat'rey, of that he would insist.

Another shiver raced through him and he stood to head back inside. 'It's time,' he confirmed entering the grand reception. Time for him and the human to go their separate ways. The only question was how and precisely when that would happen.

### --- ###

Ztar was working late again. His duties completed, Warren relaxed in their chambers, sitting on the bed against pillows plumped at the headboard with a glass of sanui in hand. With the fireplace lit, he stared into the dancing flames. The day had been uneventful, even quiet, leaving him feeling mellow.

As he'd done countless times before, he pondered the state of his life. Ztar was probably having an affair – a logical conclusion to anyone who cared to fit the pieces together. Part of Warren was pleased – Ztar was making progress toward letting him go. The other part felt twinges of hurt and betrayal that he was trying very hard to deny.

'Time for some honesty, Worthington. Why the hurt? Is it more than that? Could there be some jealousy laced in there?' He didn't want that to be so. He wanted Ztar to move on. He did. Really. Nearly six Earth years of his life had been focused a singular goal – being free of the alien. Bite the bullet, do whatever is necessary, and pray for the best. All the indicators said it was working. He was so close he could taste it.

But why was his heart hurting? Was it as Moit'de had suggested – Warren had put so much of himself into Ztar that separation would be painful no matter what? 'It's more than that, Worthington. You know that – stop lying to yourself. But it's not what Atichi said.' He sighed and took a deep sip of sanui and closed his eyes. 'It can't be…'

And when Jharda stepped into the picture and likely into Ztar's bed, something that Warren should view as the final sign of Ztar's readiness, it caused more pain despite his self-denials. What did the feelings mean? That slippery slope he once feared – had he slid further than he knew? He kept coming back to the fact that a male/male relationship wasn't in his nature. Or had he been fooling himself about that, too? Bi perhaps?

He shook his head. Nothing against homosexual or bi-sexual natures, but it just wasn't him. Never once had he questioned his orientation. Yet there was Ztar and the evidence pointed to Warren having grown attached beyond friendship, as much as he wanted to believe otherwise. Opening his eyes, he looked deeply into the fire.

Confused. That summed up his current state. "Shit and damnation," he said aloud to the fire, setting the sanui on the bedside table. The flames performed their mesmerizing dance oblivious to his bewilderment. Flickering and morphing from yellow to orange to red and then back to yellow, they pulled him in. Burning brightly and tantalizingly – you almost wanted to capture the ethereal, glowing wisps in your hands…to hold and control the fire. Perhaps that is what Ztar had done to him. The sex was so powerful and all consuming – like scorching fire, hypnotic in its seductive allure. Is that what had captured Warren?

But take care. Capture fire in your hands and you'll get burned. And now Warren felt torn about Ztar and Jharda and, yes, about leaving. He pulled his knees up to rest his forehead against them, arms wrapped around his shins. 'Why can't anything ever be _easy_?'

Atichi's words came back to him. "We often have no say in whom we grow to love. The soul has no gender."

He raised his head and gazed into the fire. Was she right after all? Did the soul have no gender and his had fallen for Ztar's? They were connected on some incorporeal level; that much Warren believed. Somewhere, somehow that had happened without his consent. 'What are the ramifications of that?' he wondered. Could the connection simply exist and nothing more? Or could that link be influencing his emotions?

He had encountered situations of metaphysical links between two people that had nothing to do with love or even friendship. In fact, it could be with an enemy, yet still strong. Perhaps the subconscious attempts to deal with the external input coming through the link however it can, and in him manifested as emotions of…dare he say it…love?

A deep sigh escaped him and he stretched his wings across the width of the bed, letting them trail over the edge. Sometimes he was such a mystery unto himself, such as why he'd come to the bed to contemplate Ztar instead of his usual spot in the sitting area.

He placed a hand on the bed and brushed across the plush linens. The bed – an object that held so much symbolism in his life. It had gone from an object of subjugation and near torture to one of sexual delight and emotional comfort. Thinking back, the transformation was nearly impossible to believe. Most people would think it fantasy if he told the story. Little wonder Charles had thought Ztar was telepathically influencing him. He wasn't. Warren's staying was entirely his own doing.

Reaching over, he grabbed the half-empty glass of sanui and held it up to the light of the fire. The deep ruby wine-like beverage resembled liquid gemstone as he swirled it in the glass. Ztar had introduced Warren to Nannchi-Rua shortly after bringing him to Sat'rey and he'd immediately liked it – not too dry and not too sweet; a perfect semi-dry to his taste. He took a sip and savored the subtleties. He'd miss it.

Warren added conflicted to his current state of being. Confused and conflicted. Confused about the whys and hows and conflicted over what to do about it. The situation was getting complicated again. What was it Moit'de had told him months ago? "Complicated be distracting…we make simple complicated. Many things demand attention. Many things beyond control. Focus on what plant need – all rest follow."

Perhaps Warren was letting the complications distract him again. 'Keep your eye on the prize,' he reminded himself. Warren wanted to go home. He wanted Ztar emotionally healthy to lead the Empire as a stable ruler. Those two goals hadn't changed. All the other stuff was distracting complications.

He stretched out his legs and leaned back into the pillows. Warren would return home when Ztar was ready to let him go. His conflicted emotions would not stand in the way – it was that simple. He'd deal with any emotional aftermaths when and if they arose. Ztar needed to take the last steps in his healing journey and perhaps already had with Jharda. She could take over and give Ztar what Warren never could as a man. Ztar needed a spouse, someone to give him heirs, and be a loving, steadfast companion until the end of his days. The Emperor needed an Empress.

'Once again, Worthington, you need to bury your emotions – this time for Ztar's sake as well as your own.' His chest tightened.

As he took the last sip of sanui, Ztar entered and immediately spied him sitting in bed. A large smile spread across the man's face.

"The perfect sight to greet me!" Ztar proclaimed with enthusiasm, all weariness disappearing from his face in an instant.

Warren chuckled shaking his head. "Good God, Emperor. I swear you're a satyr," he teased back, but believing it wasn't all that far from the truth. He hoped Jharda knew what she was getting into.

### --- ###

_We're coming into the home stretch. Healing, do-overs, old loves ignited, new feelings denied, questions and answers and more questions – it's all coming together for the inside world of our story. The outside world of the Etagllot, governmental transition, imperial worries, enemies and friends known and otherwise, swirl as complications around our central characters. Where will it all lead? Next chapter – the beginning of the conclusion._


	18. Chapter 18

_This chapter is what the whole saga comes down to, even though two chapters follow. I hope you feel it's up to the task. I will say no more…_

**Chapter 18**

It hit him while wrapping up a few personal errands for Ztar – Warren realized that he hadn't seen much of Sukja lately. He was around and always busy, but then once the day was over, he often seemed to disappear. A few evenings, Warren had heard a shuttle leave and return late. He believed it was Sukja's, but since they all looked alike, he couldn't be certain. In hindsight, there was something different about the man, too.

The more he considered it, the more clues lay scattered about. Something was up with the Ozjaerian. Time for a glass or two of Dison and an evening between friends. Two evenings later with Dison in hand, Warren was at Sukja's door.

"Come in!" came the warm greeting.

Warren walked over immediately to fetch the glasses and pour the liqueur while Sukja put out a couple light snacks in the sitting area.

"Seems like our schedules allow us to see each other less and less," Sukja lamented.

"Agreed. Ztar and his schedule keep me hopping. I think after the transition is complete, he's going to busier playing diplomat. It seems people think he has more time on his hands now. I've already accepted invitations to several planetary events and system shindigs. He's going to become quite the social butterfly!" Warren used the American saying not able to grab an equally good Turzent phrase.

The puzzled looked on Sukja face told him the alien hadn't a clue what the metaphor meant as the translator likely told him the emperor was becoming a sociable flying insect. That made Warren laugh. "It means he has a very active social agenda."

Sukja chuckled. "Indeed, Ztar's role is changing whether he's ready or not!"

The two men settled into the sitting area, feet up and Dison in hand. "Speaking of full agendas, you seem to be busier of late, especially your evenings. Anything this curious human should be let in on?" Then he watched every visual cue he could detect.

Sukja wondered how long it would be before Archangel or Ztar noticed the evenings out. It had actually gone on longer than he would have guessed without anyone questioning. Should he confess? Then again, why the secrecy?

Warren knew immediately that Sukja had been hiding something very juicy. The twinkle in the eyes, the almost protective body language, and slight tilt of the head. Then the body language opened up as Sukja set his glass of Dison on the side table and smiled hugely.

"I can see that attempting to keep secrets from you is folly," he complimented Archangel. "You didn't waste much time getting to the point of our evening, did you?"

Warren chuckled. "Nope, no sense beating around the bush. Give, Sukja. What's up?"

"The visits are to Yaunra to visit someone-"

"You've got yourself a woman!" Warren cut in. 'I _knew_ it!' he congratulated himself on his keen intuition.

Sukja laughed with great amusement. "Yes, I've got myself a woman as you say."

Warren waved his glass. "Well…who is she?" he prodded, then took a sip.

"Atichi."

The Dison nearly went down the wrong way. "Atichi?! But I thought it was friends to the end with her. Best buds. Platonic and never anything more." Now he wasn't so sure of his deductive abilities.

"Sometimes, the heart has other ideas. Actually, I've loved Atichi for years, but circumstance always kept us apart. Now, though, things are changing. We've decided to pursue what we've denied ourselves for years."

Sukja looked incredibly happy, Warren realized. His eyes shone, the grin was large and from the heart. "You love her deeply, I can see that just from looking at you. I'm incredibly happy for you and Atichi. She's a beautiful person inside and out!"

"That she is. Ozja has brought us together in a way neither of us ever believed we could be. I've been truly blessed."

Warren raised his glass. "Then a toast, Sukja. To love denied and then embraced. May you find happiness together all the rest of your years!" And they clink glasses in the Anglo-Saxon tradition as they had done only once before on Sat'rey.

Sukja blinked back the sudden tears. "Thank you, Archangel. That is a beautiful sentiment. You are a good friend!"

Warren couldn't stop a wide smile at that. Sukja was a good friend in return. It drove home yet again how much his life had changed since being forcibly taken from Earth and brought to Sat'rey nearly two years ago. Miracles weren't just reserved for Sukja and Ztar it seemed.

### --- ###

Warren opened the final report from Fjai with some trepidation. Would they try to tell him again he was Eshaaru and not human? After skimming the overview, he sighed in relief. Apparently, Head Researcher Damymours'de didn't put that theory in writing. 'Good decision.'

He read with some disappointment that none of their work resulted in answers as to how he survived the virus. That mystery would remain. The report noted that additional testing of his energy field was necessary to determine if it was responsible for his miraculous recovery. A blatant omission to the report was any mention of the nannites. 'That must have been in keeping with Ztar's edict,' he concluded. The Emperor had ordered that all data gathered on the nannites was to be destroyed if no connection to Warren's survival was found. And since they hadn't pursued that avenue of study, no mention of the technology was apparently permitted.

The next section summaries what was learned of the secondary lifeforce pattern. According to Damymours'de, that situation was impossible, yet there it was. No answers to the how, but the report did say it was a weaker pattern, definitely subordinate to Warren's own signature, and that it was a unique signature – not a duplicate of his. Another mystery for which Warren may never have an explanation.

'So, Worthington. What do we know? The energy you manifest is not your own. Is that Apocalypse's doing? Don't know. You have two lifeforce patterns. To what purpose? Where did it come from? No answers. You resemble a man from twenty years ago who the Etagllot believed to be an Eshaaru. You share his physiology and secondary pattern phenomenon. Who was he? What's our connection? Why did the Etagllot have him?' He shook his head and set down the PI.

Fjai raised more questions than it gave answers. 'Frustrating!' He stood and walked over to the balcony. The days were growing warmer quickly. Spring was arriving. Hot weather wasn't far behind. Looking out over the gardens to the valley beyond, he considered his options. Seek more answers or let it go.

'You have a unique ability. So far, no ill effects and admittedly, quite delightful in appropriate doses.' He smiled. 'The other lifeforce pattern – hasn't hurt me yet either. Why worry about it?' Resting his elbows on the balcony railing, he closed his eyes, breathed deeply the scent of springtime. 'It'd be nice to have explanations, but at what cost? Sometimes, Warren ol' boy, you need to just let things be. Life doesn't come with promises that all questions will be answered or all issues resolved. There will always be more questions and more problems to tackle. Let these go. For now anyway.'

Opening his eyes, he caught sight of a flock of Sat'rey bird-equivalents circling lazily on updrafts above the valley. "Looks like they have the right idea." Within an instant, he was airborne and all his contemplations were left on the ground.

### --- ###

Warren eyed his opponent with suspicion. The last two times they faced each other, the hand-to-hand combat sessions ended rather unconventionally. Ztar was devious, that's all Warren would say about it. During their first skirmish, Ztar used a technicality to get away with using his energy field. Though Warren had to admit, it was really his oversight in setting down the rules, but the way Ztar won their mock battle was definitely against the usual rules of engagement. Kissing one's opponent was definitely devious.

The second time, Warren clarified the rules leaving the Emperor no wiggle room to use any of his mutant abilities. Yet once again, Ztar played dirty. It is very difficult to focus on fighting when your body is rocketed from zero to off the charts on the lust scale in less than 60 seconds.

"Okay, Turzent," Warren began, hands on hips. "These are the rules. No powers. No kissing. No nuzzling. No fondling, petting, foreplay, or anything resembling the aforementioned actions. Do you accept the terms of engagement?"

Ztar had a silly grin on his face as they stood in the Imperial Valley on a cool, overcast afternoon. "Are you afraid you will lose again, my Archangel?"

"I'll have you know that if you hadn't fought dirty the last two times, I'd had wiped up the valley floor with your sorry ass, my Emperor!"

Ztar let out a hearty laugh. "Perhaps, but you let yourself get distracted. You need to learn to concentrate."

'Oh, that so-o does it!' Warren said to himself and lunged at the man who he knew was goading him, but he didn't care.

Ztar made no attempt to move as Archangel launched himself. Instead, he let the human, who was quite strong in his own right, crash directly in his chest. If Ztar hadn't braced himself, they would have gone over and hit the ground, but Ztar was nearly immovable when he chose to be.

Warren hit the Turzent hard, but it wasn't enough. All Warren got for his efforts was the expulsion of air from the man's lungs. He really didn't think this would work, but it was worth a try and it proved just how much force would be required to fell the Turzent – the direct approach wasn't going to cut it.

Ztar quickly wrapped his arms around the human, hugging him close and Archangel's head quickly turned up. "That was a mistake…" Ztar said slyly.

Warren smiled. "No, it wasn't," and he brought his knee up hard into Ztar's groin. The reaction was instantaneous and rewarding.

"Ar-r-r-rgh!" Dropping the human, Ztar was seeing stars and having difficulty catching his breath as the waves of pain swept up his body. 'That was – was-' Ztar projected into Archangel's mind.

Warren slipped to the side and just as he caught the back of Ztar's knee with his foot, he reminded the Turzent, "Uh-uh – no telepathy!" With a powerful cut, the seven-foot frame dropped into the valley dirt with a thud. Warren leaned over cautiously, remembering how quickly Ztar recovered the last time Warren got him in the balls. "Point for the human."

Warren stood back. He'd let the Turzent recover and then they'd go at it again in their game to see who could make whom eat more dirt. "Human one. Turzent zero," he announced letting pride resound in his voice.

Ztar slowly and painfully got to his feet. That was quite embarrassing. One way or the other, the human would pay. Within a few moments, Ztar had recovered. Turzents are a tough bred. This time the Emperor decided to take the initiative and he propelled himself at his target.

In movements almost too quick to see, Warren leapt into the air on powerful legs just as Ztar reached him, anchored himself with one hand on the man's shoulder and performed a somersault with 180 twist over Ztar's head to plant both knees directly into the Turzent's back with all the force of momentum. The result was rewarding once again as the surprise move landed Ztar face down into the ground with a second expulsion of air. Warren rode Ztar all the way and now sat on his back.

Warren leaned down close to Ztar's ear. "Point for the human," he said and then quickly dismounted before Ztar managed to recover. He couldn't help but smile from ear to ear. This was starting off well.

###

Watching from his usual blind above the combat area, Reboct watched with rapt attention. It's not often one sees your Emperor get his ass kicked.

"Report, Reboct," Head of Security Lar's voice came over the comm.

"The Emperor is on the ground again. It's not looking favorable for him today."

After the last two tussles in the valley, Lar was amused at the events and wished he was there to see the action in person, but having one guard watching the roughhousing was enough – he'd give the Emperor and his companion as much privacy as he could accommodate within his duty. That didn't mean he didn't want a blow-by-blow report from Reboct…just to be safe, you understand.

###

Ztar got to his feet and brushed himself off with a casual glance at Archangel who hovered just out of arm's reach. 'Smart human,' he observed.

"I suppose you believe you're winning," Ztar poked.

"Human two. Turzent zero. The score speaks for itself," Warren replied, inserting much smugness as possible as he began circling his prey. He was going to go for a threepeat if it killed him.

Then in a move reminiscent of basketball, Warren dived in next to Ztar, bounced off his side and came around slightly behind, dodging Ztar's grab. In a blink of an eye, he first elbowed the Emperor in the ribs, followed by the sharp cut to the back of one knee. Then as the Turzent struggled to retain his balance, Warren sliced Ztar opposite ankle to rob him of solid footing. The result was predictable. Again, Ztar was on the ground on his side and eating dirt.

"Ha! Human three. Turzent a big fat _zero_!" he proclaimed, feeling silly in his childish delight. From the ground, Ztar muttered something Warren couldn't quite make out.

###

"I think our Emperor is letting Archangel win," Reboct said over the comm.

Lar was curious. "Why do you say that?"

"He's on the ground a third time. The human can't be that good."

Ztar may be ex-military and a mutant and the Emperor, but he hadn't been involved in hand-to-hand combat for many years. The security chief, though, wouldn't shatter Reboct's image of their Emperor. "It is very possible, Reboct. Ztar could be going easy on Archangel."

"That's got to be it, sir. Let his companion think he's winning."

Elite guard Gragne, who was lounging in the security office with Lar during his off hours, smirked Lar's way at the comm. Reboct and the other regular guards had no idea as to Archangel's background. Gragne and other three other elite guards assigned to Archangel had read the reports and knew. The human had far more hand-to-hand fighting experience than their emperor. It came as no surprise to either of them that the Turzent was getting his ass handed to him.

###

Ztar found himself getting up off the ground a third time. 'This is ridiculous! Time for a new strategy,' he informed himself.

"You are in good form today, my companion, but I think you are afraid to get too close for too long. Quick in and outs only work for so long when your opponent has the stamina of a Turzent. How long before you tire?"

Warren crossed his arms across his chest giving Ztar a look of superiority. "I'm not the one eating dirt, Turzent. Tell me again why my quick moves won't work?"

"You haven't taken out your opponent, Archangel, only made him more determined. What has that gained you?"

Warren eyed Ztar as the man once again brushed himself off as much as he could. Ztar was up to something, but Warren didn't yet know what it was. Goading was too obvious. That wasn't it.

"You want me to get rough? Have you forgotten my mean right hook so soon?"

Ztar shook his head. "No, I remember it quite well. Perhaps, though, you'd care to try your quick maneuvers in tight quarters." Ztar used his foot to draw a box in the dirt about 10 feet square. "First one with a body part outside the box loses."

Warren looked at the outline. The space was so small the tall Turzent could nearly reach out and grab him within its confines. This would be a bit more of a challenge, but he didn't want to back down now that Ztar had thrown the gauntlet. "Show me what you've got, Turzent. So far, I haven't seem much today!" he provoked.

Ztar lunged toward his target, which strangely didn't seem to move much to avoid him. Grabbing two fists full of Archangel's shirt, he sliced one foot to take the feet out from under the human, but the human reacted too quickly and jumped over the cut. In the instant Archangel's feet rejoined the ground, he thrust his arms hard against the underside of Ztar's arms while propelling his body upward on powerful legs to gain even more force.

While Warren wasn't able to fully break Ztar's double grip on his shirt, he managed to dislodge one arm. Grabbing Ztar's loose wrist, he twisted it hard while pulling away to one side of the Turzent, yanking the twisted arm up and backward. Ztar involuntarily released Warren's shirt and his upper body lean forward from the sharp wrenching of his arm. Now clear of Ztar, a knee punch up into the abdomen caused a satisfying grunt. Warren followed through with a double-handed chop to the Turzent's mid-back. The result was predictable – Ztar fell flat to the ground with a nice thud.

Standing back, he observed his handiwork. "You look good from up here, Ztar," Warren goaded with great satisfaction. "I see now why you had to resort to other tactics before to win."

Ztar groaned as he rose up on all fours. This was beyond embarrassing now. This was humiliation. 'By the gods, I need to get back into training,' he thought with self-reproach. The idea that one of his security force sat watching from the nearby hillside was too painful to consider.

###

"Sir," Reboct commed. "The Empire is down again. Perhaps the human is a better combatant than we knew."

"Reboct, I think it safe to say that Archangel can hold his own in a fight," Lar offered. "What's the tally now?"

There was silence for many seconds on the other end. "Archangel just scored his fourth straight point," came the reply that sounded almost embarrassed for the ruler.

###

"Speechless, huh? Well, all I can say is Human four, Turzent a whopping _zeeer-o_!" Warren made sure that he spared Ztar no humiliation.

Rising to his feet, Ztar didn't bother brushing himself off. He stepped to his side of the square contemplating how to salvage some dignity. The feelings of smugness coming off the human rubbed salt into his wounded pride. He gave Archangel a deadly glare.

"Over-confidence can fell even the best warrior, my Archangel," he managed to throw at the human with more self-assurance than he felt at the moment, but a plan was forming. Perhaps a little turnabout from an earlier tussle?

Warren calculated his move as he stood heels against the line. 'No sense wasting time,' he thought just as Ztar apparently had the same idea and lunged toward Warren. Barely eluding the Turzent's quick swipe at his head with a knee squat, he attempted to snag Ztar's ankle, but the Emperor was too fast.

Ztar had anticipated the duck and trip maneuver by Archangel and dodged the human's attempt. Now with his opponent close to the ground, he returned the favor from two skirmishes ago and kicked dirt up into Archangel's face just before the human jumped up.

"Aagh!" Warren said as the sand hit his face and shot into his eyes and mouth. He felt Ztar's large presence closing in. With just enough vision in one eye to aim, he drove fist into Ztar's upper abdomen as the man lunged, connecting with a satisfying oomph. He blinked to clear his eyes and spit the sand out of his mouth. Satisfaction lasted mere microseconds as Ztar's hand grabbed hold of his upper arm and began to pull up.

Ztar fully intended to toss Archangel outside the square and claim his victory. Unfortunately, the human had other ideas and as Ztar pulled, the human caught his leg around Ztar's and grabbed a fist full of the Emperor's shirt. As a result, the human cried out in pain as Ztar's powerful arm yanked hard, nearly pulling the arm out of the shoulder joint.

It wasn't the worst pain Warren experienced, but it was decidedly unpleasant. Now he was left plastered against Ztar's chest, his arm dangling from the pain-racked shoulder, staring into Ztar's suddenly concerned face.

"Archangel?" Ztar asked with trepidation, sliding a supporting arm around the human to hold him in place. The man's pain radiated through the empathic connection. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you."

Warren shook his head. "No need to apologize – these things happen. Just need few minutes and I'll be fine. Then we can pick up where we left off," Warren said, pushing against Ztar's shoulder with his good arm. "You can put me down."

Ztar smiled devilishly. "No, I think we pause it right here. When you're ready, we pick up from this point." This wasn't what he had intended, but he'd work with it.

###

"The Emperor has the human in a body lock!" the comm erupted. "The human doesn't appear to be struggling. Something's not right."

Lar and Gragne leaned in unison toward the control panel, exchanging glances. Either someone was injured or a truce had been declared. "Can you tell if either is hurt?"

"It's possible Archangel is – his arm took quite a yank. Should I go down there?" Reboct wanted to know.

"No, Archangel heals very quickly. Just stand by."

###

Warren huffed. "Fine, have it your way," and he ignored the whizzing and already easing pain to glare at his opponent. While he healed from the strained tendons and muscles, he contemplated his options. Various escape maneuvers came to mind, none of which would be particularly pain-free for the Turzent holding him. 'So many possibilities!' he calculated to bolster himself.

As soon as Ztar felt the worst of the pain fade from their link, he looked into Archangel's face and let the twinkle in his eyes register with the human. Then he abruptly and completely took the perfect mouth into his. Archangel struggled and tried to pull away, but Ztar held the back of the his head firmly.

The kiss was searing and so filled with needy desire it took Warren's breath away. Then remembering the way their first two engagements ended, Warren tore his mouth away from Ztar's in indignation. "You're breaking the rules! No kissing!"

"I'm not. While our engagement is temporarily suspended, so are the rules." Then Ztar stopped any more protests by simply re-engaging Archangel's mouth.

At first he resisted, but then started melting into Ztar's heated mouth, entwining his fingers in Ztar's thick hair for leverage before completely succumbing to the kiss. Then the hand that had been gripping his head from behind dropped to his back and slid over the base of one wing directly to the sweet spot. 'Oh, god!' he projected out as the fingers found their mark. Wrapping his legs around the Turzent, he rose up slightly as Ztar titillated the spot a second time. If his mouth wasn't lip-locked with Ztar's, he would have sucked in air at the intense waves of pleasure racing through his wing, down his body, directly to his groin.

Warren felt Ztar's arousal growing against him as his own desire was building rapidly with Ztar's continued ministrations to his mouth and wing. He squirmed and pushed with little effect, except to be pressed tighter against the Turzent's body. Heat was enveloping his body as it equally radiated from the Emperor. Thoughts of resistance were dissipating quickly. 'To hell with the fucking rules,' he declared to himself.

Ztar continued building fire in Archangel as he and only he could do without fail. He feared his legs would cease to hold them up much longer, though, if he continued. They would soon reach the point of no return.

###

"The battle may be over," Reboct observed.

Lar smiled back in security. "Let me guess, they're kissing."

"Yes, sir."

"Give it a couple more minutes."

###

When Ztar broke the kiss to come up for air, Warren was trembling and breathless with desire. He tried to relock their mouths together, but Ztar wasn't biting and Warren instantly felt cheated.

With a coolness he didn't feel, Ztar looked at Archangel and smiled coyly. "Are you ready to pick up the battle where we left off?"

Warren narrowed his eyes. "You're an asshole!" he accused, but hearing lusty overtones in his own voice.

"I think you're healed enough to continue. You certainly are healed enough for kissing and fondling," Ztar jibed sliding the human down his body slowly and sensually.

Warren's feet touched ground, his knees wobbly from the sudden comedown. "You started it!"

"Beware, my Archangel, we are opponents once again," Ztar warned with a demonstration swipe at his companion, which Archangel dodged with ease.

Trying to shake off the affect of arousal, Warren feigned left and darted right, attempting to move Ztar's center of gravity as the much larger man reached for him. It appeared to work as Ztar leaned in one direction and Warren moved in the other, until he felt the tug on his left wing. 'Damn! Didn't hold them close enough. Mind elsewhere.' With a quick snap of his feathered appendage, he broke the Turzent's grip, knowing Ztar wouldn't risk injuring a wing. 'In the gutter, to be precise,' he chastised himself. 'Damn Turzent!'

Ztar took advantage of the ever so slight distraction his grab of feathers gained to latch onto Archangel's wrist and with a very quick pull and twist had the human trapped chest to chest against him. He encircled Archangel's back with one arm, while the other blocked the immediate attempt to land a punch to his jaw. Clamping around the arm that Ztar knew threw a mean right hook, he looked down at the human and gave a quick smile.

He was not about to let Archangel try any of his close-quarters maneuvers, some of which were quite unpleasant. Lifting the human so his feet were dangling, Ztar rotated the struggling human into a nearly horizontal position and then dropped to the ground with his quarry pinned beneath him.

Warren was not happy about the sudden turn of events, finding himself lying prone in the dirt with a solid thump. Thankfully, Ztar had enough sense not to slam him into the ground on the wings, but his ass sure smarted like hell.

In a flash, Ztar grabbed both wrists to stop attacks from that source and with his knee on the abdomen, he held the human firmly. Ztar was much too strong for Archangel to break free now. He grinned down at his companion.

###

"Got him!" the excited call came over the speaker.

"Reboct, a little more detail, please," Lar pressed.

"Archangel's pinned to the ground. He won't escape now!"

###

"Do you surrender, my Archangel?" Ztar asked with far too much satisfaction, Warren thought. He struggled to find enough free motion, leverage, or attack angle in any one of his four limbs, but he didn't have much to work with.

"We're still in the square, Ztar. You haven't won yet!" Warren pointed out.

"A minor technicality. Quite meaningless actually, since you're unable to continue the fight," he replied with arrogance and a smirk. "I ask again, do you surrender?"

"No way!" Warren barked in defiance, still working to free an arm. 'Damn his augmented strength,' Warren riled internally.

"Well then, I have no choice. The stalemate must be broken or we'll be here the rest of the day." With that, Ztar leaned down and took his lover's mouth into a kiss he hoped burned with passion.

###

"Sir, they're kissing again." Reboct seemed disappointed.

Lar and Gragne stifled chuckles. This would likely end the same way the other workouts had. "When you're certain the fight is over, return to the palace." Lar would give the Emperor his privacy if things became amorous.

"Yes, sir."

###

Warren tried to avoid the kiss he knew was coming, but without success. While it didn't last long, his body quickly picked up where it'd left off moments earlier. As soon as Ztar pulled away, Warren voiced his accusation. "You're breaking the rules of engagement. You forfeit!" He'd get the bastard on a technicality if nothing else.

Ztar looked down at the man he'd like nothing more than to make love to right then and there. "If that's what it takes. Sometimes one must forfeit a battle to win the war," he voiced his strategy with a sly grin.

"So the human wins!" Warren boasted.

Ztar eased back slightly and let a very devilish grin cross his face. "Ah, but the human remains pinned by the Turzent. A meaningless victory."

Warren could have struggled, but that would give Ztar too much pleasure. 'Nope, think I just wait this one out,' he concluded to himself and relaxed. "We could be here a long time if you won't let me up. You'll be as stuck as me." Warren knew exactly why Ztar wasn't in a hurry to release him. He'd beaten the Turzent to the shower without fail – another facet to their roughhousing that Warren took great satisfaction in.

Ztar knew precisely what was going to happen when he let Archangel go. He'd take to the air and get to the shower first just like every other time. Two options were available to him. Ztar could either allow the human to have the shower first or he could incapacitate Archangel in some manner. Getting to the shower first was becoming a matter of pride.

With out warning, an unexpected wave of emotion washed over Ztar. Then he felt as though he was someone else observing the scene. Archangel pinned beneath Ztar's imposing frame so represented their relationship in spite of the fact the human was free to leave at any time. Archangel was not struggling to get up, instead lying passively on the ground. Had Ztar so overpowered the human's will that now the man would not leave on his own? He had read that fear between the lines in his conversation with Charles Xavier. Five-plus years of submission and domination did not come without a price to the human's psyche. Xavier may have been right. Ztar may need to push Archangel out, or at least give him a gentle nudging.

Warren saw something odd cross the face above him. Whatever the man was thinking, it resulted in sadness in the deep brown eyes.

"Then I release you, my Archangel," Ztar said softly, lifting his knee and kneeling to Archangel's side. "You are free to go." His soul lurched.

Warren knew the words had absolutely nothing to do with their workout. The feelings coming off the Emperor were too intense, too emotion-packed. He remained stock still on the ground, eyes locked onto Ztar's.

The human's eyes widened and the empathic connection confirmed that the double-meaning was not lost. 'By the gods, I'm not ready for this!' his mind cried out. He had to get moving before he couldn't control the emotions. Rising, he held out a hand to the human.

Grabbing the outstretched hand, Warren allowed Ztar to help him to his feet. A lump formed in his throat. It was time. Instead of happiness, only a sinking feeling filled Warren. 'This is what you've worked toward for nearly two years, Worthington. What's the matter with you?!'

"Thanks, Ztar," he said letting their hands remain clasped just a couple heartbeats longer than was necessary. Then he forced himself to shake off the emotional shroud and smiled. "Race ya to the shower!"

As Ztar was left once again in a whirlwind of dust as Archangel took to the air, he couldn't help but smile even though his heart was breaking. 'By the gods, I will miss this!'

### --- ###

"All the security measures are in place then?" Ztar asked of his general.

"Yes. The security force surrounding Earth has been fortified, as well as our monitoring net. All has been done that is possible it ensure his safety."

"Remember, General, Archangel remains Royal Court until his death. He is to be protected as such." Ztar wanted there to be no misunderstandings.

Gtar-Cro nodded. "Understood, my Emperor."

"And our investigations into the Etagllot progresses well?"

"We are making small inroads and the Par-Sen continue to cooperate."

"Hercjell?"

"Nothing as yet."

"Aside from the many Etagllot issues, our Empire seems to be calming as the transition nears completion."

"The usual hotspots remain, but at this specific moment, I agree with you."

"We face many challenges, General, but in the grand scheme, nothing that isn't to be expected in an Empire the size of ours."

Gtar-Cro gestured complete agreement. "There will always be challenges, but the Empire's foundation is stronger than ever."

"We will rid the Empire of the Etagllot. We will ensure a stable and secure home for all our people. The Empire will be a place worlds wish to be part. That is my dream."

Gtar-Cro smiled, holding his gaze through the PI. "The Royal Court of Ztar's dream as well, my Emperor. We stand beside you."

### --- ###

Warren watched as her eyes filled with tears.

"Have you told anyone else?" she asked, her voice strained.

"You are the first," he answered simply, not trusting his own voice too far.

"And the Emperor?"

"He'll know tonight."

She was quiet for several moments. "He will take the news very hard. He loves you completely," she nearly whispered, searching his eyes.

He nodded. "I know, but it is time. He's ready and I have a life on Earth that I need to get back to."

Atichi took a sip of tea. "Life is about to change. It will not be the same without you here. I will miss you, Archangel."

"As I will you." He reached across the small table where they sat in the back room of her shop and put his hand atop hers. "Thank you, Atichi, for your friendship and especially for giving me sanctuary all those months ago. It meant a lot. Knowing I had a place to go if I needed to get away has been reassuring."

"You're very welcome, my friend. I hope you are someday able to come for a visit."

Warren doubted that would ever happen, but he promised to try.

"What are your plans once you return home?" she asked, rising to top off their tea.

Warren eased back in contemplation. "I really haven't fully decided. This is a chance for a fresh start. I want to do something different with my life, but not sure what that is yet. The first thing I'm going to do when I get back is indulge myself. My favorite foods, places, spend time alone, maybe go to my mountain chalet for awhile. I need to recharge and re-anchor myself."

Atichi smiled warmly as she poured. "That sounds wonderful. These past years have likely drained you physically, mentally, and spiritually. You are wise to recognize that. Don't rush the process, Archangel. It took years to arrive where you are right now and it will take time to move forward and leave this life behind. Be certain to give yourself as much time as needed to do that." The Ozjaerian settled back at the table.

Warren leaned forward and took another drink of tanquer root tea. "I have a feeling you speak from experience," he said giving her a knowing look. Atichi had shared with him her former life as a prostitute to help her family survive the harsh times on Ozjaer before Ztar came along. She had moved past that life to become a successful business owner and immigrated to Sat'rey.

Atichi nodded. "Despite how much we want to leave one life behind for another, no matter how bad that life may have been at times, it is still a passing of a phase of your existence. It's like a death. The familiarity of life is suddenly no more. Your world, your place in it, your point of reference changes, and that can be…unsettling."

Warren considered Atichi words. How true they rang. His mind went back to when Ztar first snatched him from Earth six years earlier. Everything about his existence changed in a blink of an eye. Unsettling was putting it mildly. Now he was on the threshold of once again changing his existence. While the circumstances would be completely different this time, it would be still be an upheaval. The life he left behind on Earth was gone in many ways. Even the three years he spent on Earth during the Turzent/Commonwealth war were disconnected in so many ways from his pre-Ztar life. He'd been in limbo then. Time had passed – six years of time. Life on Earth had moved on and he could never go back to pick up where he left off. That existence was over.

"You speak the truth, Atichi. I'll return to only bits and pieces of what I once was and had. It will take time to create new pieces to fill in what I've lost."

Atichi set her cup down, her eyes glistening. "Don't focus on what has been lost. Instead consider the possibilities. When I came to Sat'rey, I mourned the lost of my former life in many respects, but I also chose to be excited and energized by the new life I was about to create. I was going to be a better Atichi. I pruned off what was no longer helpful and grew myself in ways I never could before. My future was in my hands – it was mine to build anew. That filled me with the courage and strength to move forward. I am very glad I took the opportunity that new beginning gave me. You will do likewise, of that I'm certain. You are strength embodied."

She was right. In exchange for what he lost, he was being given a chance reconnect with life on Earth in new ways. Warren looked into the Ozjaerian's face that was still beautiful in spite of the years. "God, I'm going to miss you!"

And then Atichi lost her fight against the tears. Warren got up, knelt beside her, and took her into a long embrace. Human and Ozjaerian tears mixed.

After Atichi's quiet sods ceased, he rose. "I should return to the palace now. Have a good life, Atichi, with all its blessings," he said from the heart. He hated to leave so soon, but he was on a schedule. "And I hope that good life is with Sukja."

"Sukja told me he let you in on our secret," she said smiling up at Warren. "It will be my friend. And you…" Atichi stood and brushed his cheek to wipe away a stray tear, "Archangel, find happiness. You deserve it in your life and in your soul," she wished holding his gaze.

Within moments, he was out the rear door, taking wing to scoot back to the shuttle waiting at Ztar's private landing pad. Settling into a seat, he wiped away another tear. He would definitely miss Atichi's gentle wisdom and strong spirit. Sukja was a lucky man.

### --- ###

Shortly after arriving back at the palace in the late afternoon, he entered the greenhouse to find Moit'de. This would be another difficult good-bye. Warren could only hope that Ztar wasn't given to scanning staff routinely. He didn't think so, but would ask Moit'de to stay clear of the palace until tomorrow just to be on the safe side.

"Archangel!" the Sat'reyan called out from the far end of the greenhouse where he was working over the plants.

"Hello!" Warren replied warmly. "Do you have a few minutes?"

The master gardener was already making his way over. "Always for you."

Warren led them to Moit'de's small office to one side of the hothouse where they settled in.

"I have something to tell you that must remain between us until tomorrow. The Emperor cannot find out before I speak with him tonight."

"Understand," the man confirmed as a curious look crossed his face.

Warren already felt his throat tighten. "I am leaving tomorrow for Earth. I will not be back."

Moit'de didn't move for several seconds. "Ztar ready," the gardener stated rather than asked.

Warren nodded.

"Archangel ready?" That was a question.

Again, Warren nodded. This time, though, he wasn't as convinced of his answer, but he hid that from his gardener friend.

"Then it is good. Archangel belong with friends that be family."

'God, I hate good-byes,' he said to himself about the emotional day that wasn't getting any easier. And the worst was yet to come.

"I need to get back to my life now that Ztar is healed. But before I leave, I wanted to tell you I will miss your counsel. You helped me see things clearly and with a fresh perspective when I needed to most. You are a wise man, Moit'de. Thank you for being my friend." Then Warren could say no more as the tears filled his eyes and his voice could no longer escape around the lump in his throat. The man before him had played such a pivotal role in his decisions over the past two years it was hard to imagine where he'd be without Moite'de's guidance. Much less happy, of that Warren was certain.

"Archangel Srandrez's friend," Moit'de said referring to himself by his first name, something he rarely did. "The missing go deep," and with that moisture filled the coal black eyes.

Warren swallowed hard. "It will."

They sat quietly for a bit, each lost in their own emotions and thoughts. Moit'de never filled the gaps in conversation with prattle, one of the things Warren admired so much about the man. His composure regained by the silence, Warren looked over at his friend.

"You taught me many things I will not forget, like the pruning off of what no longer serves a purpose. About bad soil and not hanging onto things that poison us. That sometimes we're put where we are most needed even if we don't see it at first. That there is a wisdom in the universe far greater than ours and sometimes we must simply trust in it."

Moit'de smiled and cocked his head in a gesture Warren knew meant the native Sat'reyan was about say something he felt Warren needed to understand. "Moit'de not teach Archangel – was voice Archangel lost."

Warren shook his head with conviction. "No, Moit'de. You were a teacher without a doubt. It was your wisdom that helped me make the right choices. And look how things turned out! Ztar is healthy and happy and will now be a great Emperor."

Moit'de gave Warren a determined look. "Archangel knew in heart and soul all Moit'de say. Archangel's pain and anger like choke weed. Wisdom hidden, but there beneath. Weeding needed, that all, friend Archangel. Then wisdom revealed. Moit'de gardener – weeding what I do."

Warren still didn't have the same take on the situation as Moit'de, but he'd let the gardener have his way on the point. It really didn't matter one way or the other, the outcome was the important thing.

"You give me more credit than I deserve, but I appreciate the sentiment. Just know that I will always be grateful you were there to tend to the weeding, my friend," he offered with heartfelt gratitude. "Be well. Have a good life. And," Warren paused to smile broadly, "perhaps find a special someone for yourself. Plants aren't the best conversationalists."

Moit'de grinned back at Warren. "No worry, friend Archangel. Moit'de content. I wish happy flying for all your days."

The flashback to Moit'de's observation of his "sad flying" way back when Warren first arrived at the palace hit him with force and he nearly lost his thin hold on his emotions. He whispered a "Thank you" as he rose to leave. "Good-bye, friend Moit'de. I will miss you." Then Warren left quickly as the emotions welled up and nearly overtook him.

### --- ###

There were so many others he could have said good-bye to – Chef Delme, Gragne, Merryth, Niat, Vozeipar'de, even Rja – yet it was too much to do in person in such a short amount of time. Instead, he spent the next hour composing comm messages that would be delivered shortly after his departure.

Sukja was a worry, not because he believed the Ozjaerian would say something to Ztar, but because he wasn't sure if Sukja could keep his emotions hidden from Ztar any better than Warren. Timing was important – he needed to tell Sukja just before Ztar was due back at their chambers to minimize the chances of Sukja and Ztar facing each other. Warren had commed Chef Delme earlier in the day with a special order and then sent word to Ztar as to dinnertime. Now he hoped nothing interfered with those plans as he walked toward Sukja's chambers where he knew Sukja had retired for the day a few minutes before.

Entering at the prompt, Warren's fought the wash of feelings that flowed over him. Drained from the two previous good-byes, his was already emotionally raw. This was going to be painful. He practiced his casual look on Sukja, hoping it was going to help when facing the Emperor in a short while.

"Another busy day?" he asked nonchalantly, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Indeed. These last government transitions are some of the most challenging because they are systems that did not come into the Empire willing – Mennisa for one, Earth another. Some planetary leaders are very much fighting to be completely independent. Earth, thanks to you and your friend, isn't one of them, but the talks are still tense. Earth's representatives don't have a good opinion of us as you know all too well. Dison?" Sukja offered walking toward liquor storage.

"Yes," Warren accepted with perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm in his voice as Sukja looked inquisitively at him. He turned away from the gaze to settle into a chair in the sitting area.

"Mennisa System – you know what a trouble spot that has been," Sukja continued. "We're hopeful their leaders will see the wisdom of remaining within the Empire. We offer protection and economic benefits they would find extremely difficult to replicate as a standalone system."

"Why not let them rejoin the Commonwealth? Or is that section of space too strategic?" Warren asked as Sukja handed him a glass.

"In the larger scheme of things, yes, considering the past aggressive behavior of the Commonwealth. Mennisa System provides buffer layer between the two realms. If war should ever breakout again, Mennisa could be considered a throwaway sector, a layer we could shed without great harm and still maintain a solid border between us. Ztar likes the strategic options that system provides, which is why he chose Mennisa to be part of the Empire when the new boundaries were determined."

"But if the system continues to be a problematic…"

"We believe things will settle down once the people accept the benefits to remaining within the Empire. It may take some time, but that is the hope."

Warren sipped the Dison he so enjoyed. He'd asked Lar to ensure a supply was boxed and in the shuttle. Warren looked over his glass at Sukja. "Sukja…" was all he said, dropping his façade and letting his face and body give away the feelings. The Ozjaerian eyes held his and then slowly widened.

"Archangel, I-" Sukja's face filled with emotion and Warren saw the slight shudder as the glass was set unsteadily down on the side table. He remained quiet, allowing Sukja to grapple with the knowing.

Sukja's felt lightheaded as his heart lurched several times. 'In the name of Ozja, let me be wrong!' But then just as quickly, he knew the time was right. His voice nearly failed as he struggled. "Ztar….Ztar is ready."

"Yes," Warren confirmed quietly.

"I'm not sure I am," Sukja said with a light laugh that failed miserably.

Warren gathered himself and with skill from years of practice, stuffed down his emotions to get through the next few moments. "You and I started out under the worst of circumstances. If you had told me five years ago that I'd be mourning leaving you and Ztar, I'd have believed you delusional. But now-" his voice caught despite his efforts and he cleared his throat, "but now that's exactly what I'll be doing. You have become a friend. I will miss you in my life." That was all he could get out for the moment.

Tears now filled Sukja's eyes and he blinked several times to clear his vision. Archangel was such an important part of his world, losing that was going to be very painful. "Selfishly, I wish you would stay. Where am I going to find someone to oversee palace staff so effectively?" he joked, hoping it would help both of them get through the emotions.

Warren smiled at the attempt. 'Good try,' he silently praised. "The palace runs itself. I have no worries there." He gripped his glass; he needed a good shot of the liqueur. "You will see to Ztar after, I know. That helps."

Sukja nodded. That part was going to be agony. While he believed Ztar ready, it would not lessen the impact of Archangel's leaving. "He will survive it."

"I'm telling him tonight – not sure exactly when, but I'm hoping we can keep this from him beforehand. He should be heading to our chambers within a few minutes for dinner."

"I will stay clear," Sukja immediately understood Archangel's concern. It would be very difficult to hide strong emotions from Ztar for any length of time and he consciously began to suppress his.

Warren saw a change in Sukja almost immediately and recognized the effort. Warren breathed silently relief. Now he had to be able to do the same. "Thank you, Sukja, for everything. I will leave it at that for the sake of what we're trying to keep from Ztar at the moment."

Sukja nodded. There was so much to say, but that would not be wise. "You leave tomorrow or tonight?"

"Tomorrow morning."

Sukja didn't need to know more. This would be Archangel's last gift to the Emperor – one last night in Ztar's bed.

"Who else knows?" Sukja asked.

"I said good-bye to Atichi and Moit'de this afternoon. Other than Lar, no one else. I've recorded a message to the others that they will receive afterwards."

"I had wondered about your trip to Yaunra today. It seemed out of place." A lot of things fell into place suddenly for Sukja. The signs had been there for the past two days.

"Cherish her, Sukja. Don't take one day together for granted. Life is too unpredictable to do otherwise."

"That sounds like wisdom earned the hard way."

"It is. Love her without reservation. It's the only way."

Sukja nodded, his throat too tight to speak.

"Lar has all the details about tomorrow morning," Warren said rising. "I will see you then."

Sukja watched as Archangel left his chambers. He allowed his heart to break for a few moments for Ztar before closing the lid on the emotions once again. There were dark days ahead no matter how ready the Turzent was.

### --- ###

How Warren managed to make it through dinner without giving himself away he'd never know. A couple times, he caught Ztar looking at him questioningly, but Warren distracted him with a question or a piece of witticism. Dinner just didn't seem to be the right time. It became obvious that the bed would be the proper place with all its symbolism. Yes, he'd wait until then.

After they finished their meal, Warren gently flirted with his lover. Ztar was quick to take him up on the offer and within minutes, they were comfortably snuggled in. Warren looked up into the brown eyes that had changed so much over time – from cold and threatening to caring and warm. Ztar smiled down at him and ran his fingers through Warren's hair as the Emperor often did.

"You are not the man I first saw six years ago," he said warmly, sharing his observation.

"_Six_ years?" Ztar asked, surprised.

"To the day – Earth years, that is." Warren had calculated it out. It was quite the coincidence.

"I hope you're seeing a far better man, my Archangel," Ztar replied and Warren nodded.

"I'm seeing someone who has turned himself around 180 degrees. I'm proud of you," he added with a smile and a squeeze of Ztar's arm.

Ztar thought for a moment. Something was amiss; he had sensed it through dinner, but he wouldn't let his mind go where instinct whispered things were headed. "It seems like another life ago," he said with a sigh. "I would still be that man if not for you. I hope you truly understand that." He sent sensations of gratitude to Archangel's mind.

The wash of feeling from Ztar nearly broke Warren's tenuous control on his emotions. 'Just a few moments longer,' he told himself. 'Stay in control!'

"Perhaps it was. That was life before Sat'rey, before the war. Much has happened since then. We've both changed, but you have the most. You should be proud of yourself." Warren was proud of – and grateful for – Ztar's change.

The Turzent was quiet for many moments. "If you had shown me this future six years ago, I would not have believed it possible. The new government, how I've changed, how very precious you've become to me…" Ztar slid his hand down Archangel's arm and grabbed hold of his hand.

Warren swallowed. "You're so much stronger now, Ztar, in a different way than before. You had cold strength then. It was rooted in poor soil, as Moit'de would say." Ztar grinned at that. "Now it's strength from better stuff…stronger stuff."

Ztar nodded. "My soul has been healed. Somehow…" Ztar shook his head in amazement he felt would be with him always. "Somehow you did that."

Warren caught Ztar's eyes with his. "You give me too much credit. I was a catalyst perhaps, but you did the hard work yourself. No one has the power to change us. They can guide us, encourage us…yes. But we change ourselves. It happens from the inside out, not the other way around."

Ztar looked deeply into Archangel's eyes. "You gave me reason to change. You found what I thought was lost…what I believed had died. Without you…" He closed his eyes to the thought of what he might still be without the human in his life.

"You did it – that's what matters. Now there's nothing left for me to do." Warren paused for several heartbeats then took in a deep breath. "It's time for me to go, Ztar."

The Emperor had known the words were coming, but no amount of imagining the leaving and planning how he'd handle it could adequately prepare him for the reality. He shuddered.

"No." The word was intense, but whispered. His world was suddenly yanked out from beneath him and he was falling.

Warren eased himself into a sitting position, leaning back against the pillows. "It is time. You know it as well as I do."

"I- I...you can't." Ztar reached out and grabbed Warren's upper arms and looked him squarely in the eyes. "Please stay. Don't leave. We can be happy. We'll make it work." The world was spinning as his heart raced.

The look on Ztar's face nearly tore out Warren's heart, but he had to do this. Warren had to leave before he sank any deeper into this life. "I need to go."

"My Archangel, not yet. Please stay a little while longer," the Emperor pleaded, tears filling his eyes. All his brave self-talk about being ready to let go was just that – talk. He would not survive this! Without the human at his side and in his bed, life would be vapid.

"I wish things could be different. I wish I could say I love you, but you know I can't. I care for you, but I don't love you the way someone should love you. You've outgrown me, Ztar. You don't need me anymore."

"No!"

This time it was not a whisper and the grip on Warren's arms tightened to the point of being painful. He remained still, watching Ztar's face.

"I'll always need you. Don't you understand? I love you. I love you more than life itself. Please, _stay_."

Warren gently moved to detach Ztar's hands from his arms, his own hands shaking. The Emperor resisted at first, then let his hands drop away.

"You want me, Ztar, but you no longer need me. You deserve someone who truly loves you and wants to spend the rest of her life with you," Warren explained as he forced his voice to work despite the tightness in his throat that threatened to render him mute. "My purpose in your life has been completed. It's time to move on."

"But we're happy. I'm happy. I thought you were, too." Tears were now running down the Emperor's face.

"I'm settled, Ztar. There's a difference. My life has been in a holding pattern for six years. It's time for me to go back to it."

Ztar wiped at his face and eyes. "I thought perhaps I was ready, but now I don't think I am. I can't do this…can't let you go."

"But you will because you love me," Warren reminded gently as he wiped another escaping tear from Ztar's face. Warren nearly succumb to tears himself. This was so much harder than he had imagined, and he had known it would be extremely difficult. Once again, he wondered about his attachment to Ztar. Had he grown to love this man more deeply than he could admit?

Ztar was quiet for some time. The turmoil was revealed in the Turzent's face and eyes. Warren felt the Emperor trying to come to grips with the news, rein in his emotions, and perhaps determine how he would respond. Then Ztar took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It was a shaky exhale.

"When will you leave?" Ztar braced for the answer.

"Tomorrow morning. Lar made the arrangements. My shuttle leaves at 7.0." Warren had asked for an early departure knowing how hard this would be for Ztar.

Ztar's eyes widened. "So soon?"

"I'm not good with long farewells," Warren looked into the anguished face. "But we still have tonight. We can make it special – something to hold on to," he offered with a smile. Ztar could never refuse when Warren offered himself and he was betting that would be the case this final time. He leaned in for a gentle kiss and felt Ztar's lips and body trembling. Warren would do his very best to soothe away those trembles and the pain and fill their final night together with everything that pleasured Ztar.

Warren let the kiss go, but kept his face very close to Ztar's. "Make love to me, my Emperor. Anything – everything you want," he murmured his last gift. Then he placed a hand on either side of Ztar's face and took in the lips and mouth that had brought him so much sensual delight. He kissed deeply and longingly, wanting to burn to memory Ztar's taste and feel. He guided Ztar into lying beneath him, the kissing never stopping.

Running his hands down his lover's body, Warren savored the firmness of the toned muscles, the smoothness of the olive-brown skin. Such a powerhouse lay beneath him – a being that could kill with his bare hands, his mind, and his energy field. The conqueror that had forged an interstellar empire with the force of his will and the might of his hands. Yet this being had ultimately surrendered to Warren. "You rule this ruler," Ztar had once told him. 'What a role reversal,' he mused, continuing his explorations of the body he'd come to know better than this own.

Ztar relished the sensual caressing Archangel bestowed upon him. Up and down his body, the human kissed, nipped, stroked, and brushed with fingers and lips, sending waves of pleasure through him. He simply enjoyed and did not move to do likewise, allowing his companion to work his magic. As arousal built quickly, he opened his eyes to look at the wondrous being atop him that soon would be gone. 'So beautiful!' Blinking back the tears, he forced himself not to dwell on the emotional pain to come tomorrow. Tonight was to be savored and cherished.

Each delightful sensation Warren wanted to remember until the end of his days. The feel of the man, the sight of him, his smell – all if it Warren swore to never forget. He traced Ztar's face with his fingers and ran his hands through the incredible black-crimson hair. Looking into the depths of the dark chocolate eyes, he counted their gold flecks. He ran his thumb over the lips that alone could send his body into overdrive. Pulling a hand into his, he kissed the palm and each fingertip. Those hands that bestowed ecstasy whenever they ran over his body or through his feathers. 'Oh, god. Can I give this up?' He pushed down the pain.

Focusing completely on bringing pleasure to the man beneath him, Warren lost himself to the task. His hands and mouth took on a life of their own, roaming the firm body, working Ztar's erogenous spots with intuitive effectiveness. He didn't think, he just did. The Turzent moaned, shifted, and trembled beneath him.

He closed his eyes. Ztar was drowning in sensation and bliss, his body flooded with erotic delight. Archangel had brought him great pleasure in the past, but this was….this was different. This was on a completely new level. Ztar was being swept away and he went joyfully to wherever the human was taking him. The feel of the man's hands, fingertips, tongue, and lips on his body in all the right places was rapturous. He had no body; he was only sensation. 'By the gods!' was his one coherent thought as his body closed in on climax with Archangel's attentions. He wanted to be inside his companion desperately and groaned in the need.

In his hyper-tuned state, Warren recognized the signs – Ztar was at the point he needed release. Sliding onto his lover, he slowly descended to give his body time to adjust. The Turzent rose slightly up, taking Warren's forearms in his grip with a moan.

Ztar didn't want to release immediately, but that's what he nearly did as soon as Archangel started coming down on him. He managed to hold off as Archangel began to ride him. 'Can't lose him – not yet!' he cried out in his mind without sharing it with his lover. The feel of Archangel on him, the sound of their bodies coming together, the rustle of feathers as wings moved in rhythm with the human's pumping. He took in every sound, every feel of the heavenly experience and burned it into his consciousness.

Warren rode Ztar in almost a trance, completely absorbed in the intensity of the sensations. The energy he had called up so many times needed no beckoning – it simply manifested of its own volition, spreading indescribable rapture through his body and beyond. When Ztar moaned loudly and came in Warren, he knew the energy had found its mark.

"Gods have mercy!" Ztar cried out. The mix of climax and rapturous waves were too much. His mind and body went white hot with sensory overload. When he was able, he opened his eyes to the sight of Archangel softly glowing. 'My wondrous Esserru,' Ztar couldn't help but believe all over again. And then climax, rapture, and golden glow slowly, gently faded.

Warren simply lied forward on Ztar's chest, not bothering to remove himself from the Emperor's shaft. The Turzent was trembling from the aftereffects of the sex and energy bath, breathing hard, heart racing. A shaky hand then began soothingly stroking one of his wings. They lay without speaking for many minutes as their bodies recovered.

When Ztar felt he could speak again, he drew his arms around Archangel. "You've ruined me for anyone else to follow," he said, repeating the words Archangel had said months earlier. He had remembered them and cherished the sentiment. Now it was appropriate to echo them back.

Warren rose up to look into Ztar's face. He recalled saying that himself. "Turnabout is fair play!" he said with a grin.

"You can't ask me to give this up, my Archangel. It's too cruel."

Warren didn't want to go down that path. Tomorrow there'd be plenty enough time to consider the cruelties of the situation. "That's me. Love 'em and leave 'em!" he teased with a chuckle and a poke to the Turzent's ribs.

Ztar recognized the ploy to divert. He'd allow it for the sake of enjoying their last night together. He swallowed the lump in his throat and smiled salaciously at his companion. "You had your way with me, so if turnabout is indeed fair play, it's my turn."

"What? You want another round?" Warren feigned great surprise.

In movements belying his large frame, Ztar traded their positions and Archangel was dismounted and quickly beneath him. The wings immediately spread across the breadth of the bed in invitation as a beautiful smile spread across the handsome face.

"Bring it on, mighty Emperor. Show me what you've got!" Warren challenged playfully. He was tired from the energy channeling, but refused to let it show. Once they got going again, he'd be fine.

Ztar took his time with Archangel, almost to the point of being painful. Each touch he metered out with care and lingering sensually. Kisses that began gently, built to fiery passion, then eased back to evolve into nips, bites, and brushes of his lips. He started at the top of Archangel's body and worked his way down, leaving not an inch of flesh untouched. He did not touch the wings, though, and he felt the need building in the human for him to do that. Ztar would save that for later.

Warren was quickly going over the edge. Ztar's mouth and hands were implements of pure ecstasy and his body was on fire. He wasn't sure he could hold off for long, and still the pleasures bombarded him. Ztar nudged his mind and Warren opened to him instantly. As Ztar slid in, it was like an erotic physical touch and it nearly brought him to climax then and there. 'Jesus, Ztar!' he thought to the man.

'Just a little something extra tonight,' Ztar 'pathed back with a mental grin.

Ztar continued down and back up Archangel's body, paying special attention to where all this would lead. The human moaned and wiggled beneath him. Still he stayed away from the wings as the desire escalated to a fevered pitch.

Warren finally couldn't take it any more. "Aren't you forgetting something?" he asked, nearly panting.

"What could that be?" Ztar asked innocently.

"For God's sake, don't make me begged!" Warren reprimanded, grabbing the man's hands and pulling them up in the right direction.

"My apologies for the oversight."

"Oversight, my ass!" Warren retorted.

"We'll get there, too, soon enough." Ztar teased, placing his hands on the wings that trembled with the touch. Combing the feathers, letting them slide between his fingers the entire length of the wings.

Warren nearly came again and he moaned in ecstasy. 'Dear god, I'm going to miss this!' Closing his eyes, he went with the waves of heat that raced across his wings and through his body with each stroke. It was divine bliss and he wanted more. Then just before the sensitive wings reached the point where over stimulation would turn pleasure to pain, Ztar moved on to other areas of delight on his body.

"You'll never find another lover who can make you burn as I do," he whispered with a rasp into Archangel's ear. Then Ztar gave everything to his lover, using all his skill, all his senses – empathic, telepathic, and physical. He projected his love and adoration into Archangel's mind and hoped that it penetrated to the human's very soul. Ztar devoured Archangel's body, imparting pleasure with every touch, nibble, kiss, and stroke. Archangel returned the kisses savagely, prodding Ztar to move things along, yet he sensed the human also wanted this to last as long as possible.

Smothered with sensation and feelings both physically and mentally Warren let himself go and melted into the bliss-filled existence Ztar created. He drank it in, swam in it, and breathed it in deeply as he trembled from head to toe from the rapturous onslaught. When it was becoming too much, he took Ztar's mouth hard and deep – he wanted Ztar to bring things to their climatic conclusion. "Now…please!" he pleaded urgently into the crimson-black hair.

Smile with joyfulness, Ztar took his treasured companion of six years. He took the man who had saved his soul and given him a new lease on a life; a life filled with happiness and fulfillment instead of frustration and anger. Ztar plunged into the man he was about to perhaps never see again. He refused to close his eyes, burning to memory the sight of Archangel lost in bliss. For the last time, he made love to his beloved, his senses at peak acuity as to not miss a single, heavenly nuance. Their bodies climaxed in unison again, something that Ztar could remember experiencing routinely only with Archangel. They were in perfect, exquisite harmony.

Completely spent, Ztar stretched out next to Archangel; carefully, though, as the wings were still spread across the bed and he was lying atop one. The feel of feather against his back and legs was delightful and tickled in a couple spots. He knew he'd need to move off soon, but he'd enjoy the temporary pleasure as they recovered.

"Ztar," Warren started, still trying to catch his breath. "You outdid yourself. That was amazing!" Warren rarely gave an assessment of Ztar's performances in bed, but he couldn't help himself. It was truly incredible sex from a man who routinely performed incredibly in bed.

"It's all in the inspiration," he borrowed the line he'd used with Jharda. It was truth for both of his lovers.

The need for sleep now was irresistible. With heavy lids, Warren looked over at the Turzent and smiled. "I will miss you. Not just the sex, but everything," he said with gentleness. "I don't want you to think that I'm leaving because I'm unhappy."

Ztar watched the eyes that were hazy with sleepiness. "Then stay," he offered softly, easing himself off the wing and then laying it against his chest, stroking the long feathers.

The soothing caresses were quickly putting him asleep, but Warren managed one more thought. "We both need to move on. It's time." He reached over and brushed the man's face with his fingertips. "But you'll be in my soul forever." Then he let sleep take him.

Archangel drifted off, but Ztar refused to sleep. He would not lose one moment of his final hours with his beloved. The rest of the night he spent gazing at Archangel, stroking the sleeping body and wings. And he watched the clock move without sympathy nearer the hour when the human would depart. If he only had the power to stop time. He wept as quietly as he could as time inched inexorably forward.

### --- ###

When Warren woke, he moved quickly. The shuttle would arrive in just a few minutes. He'd shower once he got to the Noitlim. All he had to do was throw on his clothes. Staff would have his tub of belongings already at the shuttle pad. Warren knew this had to be short and sweet for Ztar's sake. He'd gone so far as to instruct that as soon as his shuttle was in the ship's bay, the Noitlim was to leave orbit.

"Do you want to come with me to the shuttle?" he asked. Perhaps Ztar would want to say good-bye quietly in their chambers.

Ztar only nodded. He did not trust his voice. This was surreal. Archangel couldn't be leaving. He'd wake up from this cruel dream soon.

They walked in silence down the hall, descended the stairs to the grand reception, and made their way out the main entrance to the pad. Sukja was already there. Warren immediately saw the tears in the Ozjaerian's eyes. He saw Sukja looking to Ztar with a worried expression. Sukja would help with the aftermath. The aide had his work cut out for him.

As they stopped at the edge of the landing pad, Warren turned to Ztar with one final request. "Ztar, promise me two things before I go." Ztar watched him with questioning eyes. "Promise me you'll find someone to love. Someone who wants to give you children and grow old with you. Someone who loves you with abandon." Warren searched the Turzent's face for comprehension knowing the man was being overwhelmed by emotions. Warren hoped that person was Jharda, but he would not share his knowledge of that with the Turzent.

Ztar nodded. "I will try," the shaky voice affirmed that didn't even sound like his own. Jharda's face flashed through his mind.

"And get the Etagllot," he voiced his second request.

"I will," Ztar vowed.

At the sound of the shuttle approaching, Ztar grabbed Warren into his arms and held on so tightly it was hard to breathe. "Don't go, I beg you! Please, a little longer. I need you a little longer!" Ztar pleaded with a voice full of such anguish, Warren almost reconsidered.

"You're strong enough, Ztar." Warren felt the Emperor shudder from suppressed sobs.

"I- I love you." The voice was cracking.

Warren did not respond with what his heart wanted to say – it would only make parting more difficult. He held onto Ztar as the shuttle landed. As soon as the hatch opened, Warren pulled away, pressing hard but gently against the broad chest to release Ztar's grip on him. He brushed his hand along with side of the Turzent's face. The tears were flowing freely down that face. "Good-bye, Ztar." Then he stepped backward out of Ztar's reach, working hard to suppress his own emotions.

"Bye, Sukja," he choked out, giving the man a quick embrace. His own tears were coming despite this being what he had worked toward for two years and had dreamed of for six. He was going home for good.

"No-o!" Ztar cried in a choked whisper as Archangel entered the shuttle.

The hatch closed immediately, blocking his view of the human, but he still felt him. The empathic link was heavy with chaotic emotions. Ztar felt Archangel's sadness, his distress. Anxiety was there, too. And fear – for Ztar? He felt Archangel's attempt to stifle those feelings. Ztar held onto the link like a lifeline as the shuttle darted into the sky. He and Sukja watched until they could see the craft no more.

Sukja knew he needed to get Ztar to his chambers – he was shaking and on the verge of breaking down. Taking his Emperor by the elbow, he led the man back through palace. In Ztar's chambers, he steered him directly to the sitting area. Sukja poured Raimami for both of them, his hands trembling from the effort to suppress emotions for his Emperor's sake. Ztar finally spoke when Sukja handed him the glass.

"This cannot be," Ztar declared simply, focusing his entire being on the empathic connection. He would hang onto that until he could no longer.

"It was time, my Emperor. You are ready. Archangel spoke truthfully."

Ztar only shook his head. The link was suddenly growing weaker. Archangel's ship was leaving orbit. Soon it would go into FTL mode. As the moments passed, the link grew steadily thinner and it felt as though it was stretching tight. Ztar put all his mental energies into holding onto the connection. Thinner, weaker, tighter it grew by the microsecond. 'No, my Archangel!' And then with a mental ping, it was gone. Ztar dropped his glass. "_No-o-o-o-o-o!_" he bellowed and the room shook as he slipped off the chair onto the floor.

Sukja knelt there with his Emperor as the man violently sobbed.

### --- ###

_Faithful readers, I'll be waiting to hear how you feel about this segment. _

_We have just two short chapters to go. C19 will deal with the aftereffects of the parting. The last chapter takes place quite some time later._


	19. Chapter 19

_The aftermath of leaving is the whole of this chapter. What does each man feel and what comes of the parting? _

**Chapter 19**

He told himself that it was good he was leaving. He told himself he was glad to be going home. He told himself it was a relief to be finally and truly free. He'd perhaps even convinced himself he didn't love the Turzent in "that" way. He'd also proclaimed there'd be few tears. Warren had told himself many things, but they all turned out to be half-truths.

'Free at last,' he proclaimed, but his heart wasn't in it.

As he laid alone in bed in his chambers on the Noitlim, the darkness felt cold and the bed too big for only one body. Day one had been the easiest, his emotional exhaustion from the good-byes and anxiousness about heading back to Earth allowed sleep to find him rather quickly that first night. But the second night lying alone in the darkness it hit him full force. His life of six years, as horrible as it had been the early on, was over. The past two years had slowly evolved from being barely tolerable to being comfortable and happy; even wonderful at times. He'd gone from loathing the Emperor to caring deeply for the man and, his breath hitched, to loving him. Not that "I'm in love with you" love, but the equally powerful "Luv ya, man" friendship love. At least that's what he chose to believe.

Right now, the precise classification of the feelings Warren had toward Ztar was irrelevant. The tears that came against his will didn't care which they were. He was missing the strong willed, often stubborn, sometimes thickheaded, always eloquent, surprisingly romantic, highly intelligent Turzent that could make Warren's body burn with fiery passion he would likely never experience again.

Unable to sleep, he sat up and rested against the headboard. The emotional pain surprised him in its sharpness and its depth. A black hole was forming within him; it was the only accurate description. He curled up tightly against the void, drawing his wings around to form his cocoon. The will to fight the tears disappeared into the dark emptiness of the room and he wept quietly. He believed Ztar would survive their separation. Now the question was would Warren?

Life before Ztar was a distance memory, almost feeling like it belonged to someone else. The Turzent had been the center of his world for six long years whether Warren had wanted him there or not. And now with a suddenness that took his breath away, Ztar was no longer part of it.

He thought back to the nights of blinding passion and the feel of Ztar's hands across his body and through his feathers. His body shuddered as the memories made his it ache with need. A smile formed at the recollections of the gentle way that Ztar helped him preen; how sometimes the Turzent would sneak up behind, grab him up, and carry him to the bed. Warren would laugh and Ztar would be grinning from ear to ear as he plunked his captured prey, as he referred to Warren. Memories filled him of time in the mountains, Ztar watching from below as Warren rode the thermals high above and the nights spent cuddling by the fire, Warren tucked into the Emperor's chest drifting in Ztar's love. He remembered their mock battles in the valley, Ztar finding some means to end the fight so he could get what he really wanted – kisses, and sometimes more. But Warren always found a way to get the last laugh in beating the man to the shower and Ztar loved him for it.

Ztar did love him – loved him with a fierceness that rivaled any lover in Warren's life. What had started as physical self-gratification regardless of the cost to Warren had evolved in deep, selfless love. A remarkable change in a remarkable man. And he was missing that man with an intensity that frightened him.

As the lonely night crept by, he almost commed the bridge and told them to turn around. 'No,' he told himself. Ztar needs someone who can love him equally. He deserves that, not the almost love you can only give him.' Warren was firm with himself. It was his turn to let go. Perhaps Ztar and Jharda would become the royal couple. Jharda could give him heirs, something Warren would never be able to do. Emperors need heirs.

Warren hugged his knees tighter to his chest, pressing his wings closer to his body. 'Cry if you must, Worthington, but this is best for everyone.'

He moved through the next three days in a half daze, rarely leaving his quarters.

### --- ###

His soul was being carved out with excruciating slowness, Ztar was certain of it. The Turzent shook with need as he reached out to run his hand across the place in the bed that used to be his lover's. Longing devoured him, gnawed at his flesh and his spirit. The pain was physical and sunk deep to the very molecules of his existence. He would not survive this. He had been wrong; Archangel was wrong – he wasn't ready. He'd never be ready.

"No-o-o-o!" he cried out in such anguish that the walls of his chambers vibrated. His cry was swallowed by the black aloneness and then there was only silence. The gentle sound of the human's breathing that had lulled his nights was not there. It was all a horrible nightmare and he'd awaken soon. Archangel couldn't have really left. Maybe he had to force himself to wake up. Throwing the linens aside, he got up and paced the room. Nothing changed. The bed remained devoid of the human.

His second sleepless night had been proceeded by a numb, barely recalled day. Two days since Archangel had departed for Earth. He knelt next to the side of the bed that had been Archangel's and buried his face in the mattress. Archangel's scent lingered. He hadn't let anyone in their chambers since the leaving. They would not take one thing from the room that the human had touched. Sobs raked his body as he pulled the human-scented linens from the bed and wrapped himself in them. This was worse than death. Ztar would prefer death.

The daytime hours were equal torture as he struggled through even the few mundane tasks he attempted. Days that used to be brightened by a smile from his companion or his heartwarming laugh were now vacant of happiness and meaning. Hour after endless hour dragged on. He paced and sat and cried and paced more. He did not leave his chambers; he hadn't showered and had scarcely eaten. Sukja kept trying to help, but Ztar wanted no one to see him in his agony – it only increased the intensity.

The third day, Ztar emerged from his isolation for awhile. Sukja was there and helped him through the haze that enveloped him. Could he summon Jharda, his aide had gently asked. Ztar did not want Jharda to see him in his despair. No, he didn't want Jharda here. Not now. Not like this. The third night, Ztar collapsed into bed from exhaustion and did not stir until morning.

The fifth day arrived, and people around him dared to expect him to carry on his duties. Couldn't they see how impossible that was? Couldn't they see his anguish? Did they think this so trivial a loss that he could just continue on as if nothing had happened? His world was in shatters and little else mattered. Why should he care about the latest diplomatic bellyaching from some overly sensitive planetary representative at a perceived slight or injustice? And if the people of Djorian-Fior didn't like his new constitution, then let them do better! He couldn't care in the least. It was still his empire, forged by his hand. They'd just have to deal with it.

He ignored Jharda's comm call. Ztar couldn't face her yet.

### --- ###

It was a perfect spring day in New York State. Warren stepped outside the mansion and into the warm Earth sunlight and let it bathe him. Less than an hour earlier, the shuttle dropped him off and quickly departed to return to the Noitlim in orbit far above. With that departure, a chapter in his life had ended. 'Single again,' he said with a combination of gentle relief and of loss greater than he would have thought possible.

He took a deep breath of Earth's air and felt its magnetic field flow through him. He listened to the familiar chirp of birds and the buzz of insects. It all felt so right…so good. This was home. With a leap and a downbeat, he was airborne. Climbing into the blue skies dotted with fluffy white clouds, he opened up all his senses, physical and otherwise, and let Earth sink deep into his soul, and he drank in the sensations ravenously, sighing in physical and mental relief.

Soaring to a height where he could only stay a short while, he hovered to look upon as much of his homeworld as possible. He cast his incredibly acute eyes upon her lush, green land so different from Sat'rey's drier terrain. She was beautiful, this small planet in a far corner of the Milky Way galaxy. The famous line from _The Wizard of Oz_ came to mind – "There's no place like home."

Following the currents down to a warmer level, he spread his wings extra wide and concentrated on the sensation of wind over feathers. It tickled the end of his long flight feathers as the gaps between the feathers disrupted the otherwise smooth airflow. The feeling was wonderfully sensual. Remembered sensations of Ztar's fingers combing through his feathers, the gentle strokings, and lips brushing across his wings shot fiery shivers through him. He wanted Ztar – only five nights without that man's touch and his body ached in its longing. And much to Warren's dismay, it only seemed to be growing worse.

'You've got it bad, War' ol' boy! Ztar indeed ruined you for anyone else,' he thought with sadness that a year ago he would not have dreamed possible. Warren flew for a long time hoping to leave the melancholy behind.

Warren chose to slip back to Earth quietly and told no one. He returned to his own estate and not the X mansion. During the five days it took to reach his homeworld, Warren decided to ease back into life on Earth slowly and attend to his personal life and his own emotional needs first, then worry about the X-men and the rest of the world later. Staff at his mansion was naturally shocked to see their employer, but they seemed genuinely happy he'd returned. He deftly avoided answering the inevitable questions about where he'd been and what he'd done, offering the same explanation as his sudden disappearance years earlier – sabbatical. Lame, but his house staff wasn't brazen enough to challenge that reply. Warren stressed the importance that his return remained undisclosed.

At first, he would do little but reacclimatize. He'd eat all the foods he'd missed, watch television, read months worth of news, surf the net, and generally get himself up to speed with world events. Day one of his return, he covertly checked his personal finances and that of the Worthington Industries and found all was well. Charles had been a good steward in his absence. In a few days, he'd call his attorneys to inform them he had returned and instruct them to void the power of attorney in one week's time. Until then, he'd let Xavier continue in that role.

The first few days went according to plan – the technical aspects. The emotional side was another story entirely. Nights, he tossed and turned. Dreams of being with Ztar nagged him when he did sleep. His body ached with unmet need.

"For the love of god!" he exclaimed one such night in exasperation as he threw the covers aside and sat up. "Shake this off, Worthington."

But the longing wouldn't be denied. It poked and prodded his consciousness and unconsciousness without permission and in defiance of his will. As he sat on the edge of the bed in the dark room, memories of the delights those skills hands, mouth, and other body parts could elicit sent waves of desire through him yet again.

"Ar-r-r-gh!" he cried out, leaning over as the almost physical pain of need hit him again. He spread his wings as recalled erotic sensation passed through them, wing base to wing tip, then trailed tauntingly down the rest of him. Warren stood and began pacing. His body wanted Ztar. It demanded Ztar.

Each lonely night, the almost withdrawal-like symptoms robbed him of sleep until in exhaustion he would finally crash and sleep until mid-morning. Five days back home and there was no sign of the problem easing. He looked like hell. A couple of mansion staff members had even inquired as to his wellbeing. Daytimes were easier as he kept his mind occupied with the re-integration plan. Even then, if he let his guard down, the pain and burning need threatened to overwhelm him.

In the wee morning hours, he contemplated. "What the hell is going on? Did Ztar do something to me – intentionally or otherwise?" he demanded in anger as he walked the floor. The black hole he first noticed on the Noitlim had grown, accentuating his discomfort. The bond he and Ztar shared was obviously much stronger than he had realized. The breaking of that bond was likely the cause of the distress, but what manner of bond results in this kind of reaction when severed? It was beyond anything he'd experienced before – even with the death of a lover.

Then his concern switched to the Emperor. 'Wonder how Ztar is holding up?' he questioned, feeling both remorse and fear for the man. Warren knew Ztar had felt the bond even more intensely than he had. 'If I'm feeling this bad, what must he be going through?' Would Ztar backslide? Would he be okay? Would Jharda be enough for him? Questions plagued him.

Perhaps he should comm Sukja to check in. 'No, better to do this cold turkey,' he told himself. If he found out that Ztar was a basket case, he didn't trust himself not to go running back. 'It's for the best, no matter how you look at it, flyboy. Ztar needs you to let go.'

Another wave of burning need gripped his body and he let it drive him to his knees next to the bed. Resting his forehead on the edge of the mattress, he cried as the physical and emotional pain of separation overtook him. Ztar might as well be dead as far as his body was concerned and it missed the Turzent with ferocity. He pulled the linens down and wrapped himself tightly within them. He laid on the floor to finally drift off.

### --- ###

The next many nights, Ztar often cried himself into fitful sleep filled with dreams of Archangel. The burning, aching wanting nearly consumed him.

And Jharda continued to comm, begging to speak. Ztar suspected Sukja had talked with her, but he didn't care enough to ask. He would not let his second love see him so consumed with agony by the leaving of his first love. Jharda would have to understand. He'd have Sukja explain.

He 'heard' their thoughts in the days that followed. 'The Emperor is taking this a little too hard, don't you agree?' 'I would not have believed he'd be this devastated.' 'The Emperor needs to put this behind him. It's not like Archangel died.' It _was_ like his beloved died. What is death but separation? Archangel's constant physical and empathic presence was gone – no different than death. And part of Ztar's soul left with that presence.

Time moved on as it does.

Anger came without warning and it was intense. How dare Archangel leave him like that! After everything he had said about staying with Ztar until he no longer needed him. Lies! All of it! Cruel deceptions meant to cause him this debilitating pain. Retribution for what Ztar had done to the man five years ago. Maybe Ztar should go to Earth and forcibly take Archangel back. That would show the human the price of abandoning him. He was still Emperor and ultimate ruler. The Accord remained in effect for a while longer. Archangel would have to comply or he'd blast his little backwater planet into oblivion. Then he'd see his mistake. Damn the human! Damn him for making Ztar love him!

For several nights he tossed and turned in seething anger. He hated the human for what he did.

Self-directed anger came next. All this was Ztar's own fault. He had allowed himself to hope Archangel would be in his life forever. The human had warned him it would not be so. Sukja had cautioned him not to expect that. But did he listen? Did he prepare himself? Hold his heart in check? No. He had done none of that. All this pain and turmoil was his own fault. Self-inflicted anguish from allowing himself to love someone who could not possibly love him in return. What could have possessed him to believe they had a future? By the gods, he was a fool!

He left a message for Jharda that he loved her and would comm soon.

### --- ###

The second week back and it was time for serious decision-making. Warren had determined even before his return that he wanted a fresh start – perhaps even a completely new life. Yet what that new life would look like he hadn't figured out. One thing he did want was overcome his poor self-image and battered self-worth. He had promised Ztar he'd work on that. And he wanted it for himself. Feeling good about oneself spills over into everything else in life. That may be the first thing to tackle and then perhaps a new life would present itself rather than him searching.

Another decision he faced was what role the X-men play in his life. How much did he want to be pulled back into their chaotic and dangerous world? There was also the not so minor point of his relationship with Ztar and how that was perceived by his fellow X-men. He was certain that the first time he returned to Earth after the start of the Turzent-Commonwealth war, most of the X-men had figured out what Ztar had wanted of him, but it was never spoken of. Even when Ztar came for his conjugal visits, the subject was off limits. Charles knew, of course, as Warren had admitted it to him once.

This time, Warren returned after having remained with Ztar of his own choosing. So much had played into that choice and it had been the single most difficult decision in Warren's life. How do you explain that to someone who wasn't there – who didn't go through what he went through? Who didn't know Ztar and the circumstances? He'd become a willing bedmate and companion to the man he should have loathed and wish to see dead. No one would understand, save perhaps Charles post-probe. Did his fellow X-men know of his choice? He'd never quite gotten up the nerve to ask Charles what he'd told his teammates.

So how to handle the issue? What to say if anything? Perhaps like many things in his life and in the lives of the X-men, there are subjects simply not discussed. They're filed away in the "don't ask/too painful" category. Warren decided he'd go with that until he decided otherwise.

At least his emotional state was in less turmoil as week two wrapped up. He missed Ztar and the nights were lonely and difficult, but the intensity was finally easing. He still found himself reaching out for the warm body that should be in the bed next to him. And he missed the sex that had been, well…amazing.

### --- ###

Acceptance crept in like a thief at some point stealing away the anger. Archangel was gone, he must accept it. Dull days followed, but he carried on. Little mattered, yet he performed his duties, held his meetings, moved through life with a grey shroud wrapped around him like a cloak. He was emotionally drained and everything seemed muted.

His comm message to Jharda he filled with gratitude for her patience. They would talk soon, he promised. "I love you," he ended the message.

Gradually, the burning, aching pain dulled. If only there had been a way for Archangel to stay, but he knew it was never meant to be forever between them. In the mornings, though, his hands still reached out for Archangel. Old habits…

The thirty-ninth day after the human dawned bright and clear. Ztar rose and wondered what Archangel was doing at the moment. Was he sleeping? Working? Fighting a battle of warriors? Was he safe and happy? Ztar did want him to be happy. His precious, soul-saving Archangel. How he longed for him. The touch of him. The smell of him. The taste of his kiss and smoothness of his skin. The sensual feel of feathers slipping between his fingers. The gentleness and strength of his spirit. His wisdom and nobleness. The little quirks and odd habits. The smell of coffee in their chambers. "How I miss you!" But the missing was no longer all consuming.

Ztar stood on his balcony watching the sunrise. Archangel loved early morning. It was his time; when he flew into the cool, morning air and rose to meet the sun. If Ztar listened closely enough, he could almost hear the beat of wings in the stillness. Despair had lifted. Archangel had been right. He would survive his leaving after all. He knew there would always be a void in his soul without the human at his side, but it would not destroy him. Archangel didn't want that. Archangel believed him strong enough. Ztar would honor that belief.

He looked out to the distance horizon, stretching out with his telepathy, knowing his mind could never breach the vast distance. 'I love you, my Archangel. I will always love you.' And he turned to walk back inside to face another day as Emperor of his Empire and to comm Jharda Myrundra.

###

Time passed as it does. Warren reintegrated into life. He took a more active role in his business, which he found surprisingly fulfilling. He also spent much more time with his charitable foundation garnering much personal satisfaction from making a difference in people's lives. And he kept his promise to Ztar and focused on healing his insides and as the months went by, he felt stronger and more at peace with himself than he had in years. And when the old self-doubts and recriminations threaten, he tapped into the memories Ztar had given him from the minds of his friends and the Emperor himself and those memories reminded him why he was a worthwhile person.

The Archangel persona was set aside. Let others with greater powers fight the battles. His abilities were obsolete he finally admitted. The mutant threats were too strong for his talents to compete. His experience and knowledge were valuable, true, but the X-men needed more muscle than brainpower at this time. So he said thanks, but no thanks when Xavier invited him back to the team. He'd be there for his former teammates should they ever need his financial assistance or perhaps as a teacher at the school, but his fighting days were over.

In the bigger picture, the Accord was legally nullified when Earth transitioned under the new Imperial government and life carried on as if the Empire didn't exist. Xavier had worked his persuasive magic and Earth accepted the terms of imperial membership as offered by Ztar. Earth was completely autonomous and the Empire declared the planet a non-contact world. When humans were ready, they'd be welcomed as full-fledge members of the realm, but until then there would be no interference from the Empire.

Meanwhile, Warren had learned from Charles that several abducted mutants had been returned to Earth. Gtar-Cro and company had obviously met with some success. No further abductions attributable to the Etagllot were discovered since the Empire had posted observation satellites and a guard ships in the Earth System. Hopefully that continued until Ztar and his government could completely rid the Empire of the illicit organization.

Then one day his comlink chimed. It hadn't once since leaving Sat'rey. He had put it away in his desk drawer and at first couldn't figure out what was causing the soft pinging sound. Should he answer? Was it Ztar? Warren's hand trembled slightly as he pulled the device out.

It wasn't Ztar, but a message from Sukja. "Greetings, Archangel!" the voice and image looked happy. It seemed odd being called Archangel once again. No one had called him that in many months. 'Sukja looks good.'

"I hope you are well and life is full of happiness. You have been greatly missed and many people send their good wishes." Then it looked as if the man was going to tear up, but did not. "Ztar is well and you should know that you were right to go. He was ready. Your leaving was not easy, but he came through it whole, happy, and even stronger than you remember. Again, you have my profound gratitude for what you sacrificed to help our Emperor." Then Sukja paused and appeared to gather himself. "I'm contacting you regarding the Etagllot. We have had some victories in our efforts to eradicate that organization. Several of the researchers from Ymoz were captured and their trial begins soon. I was requested to contact you to see if you would be willing to testify. While your testimony is not crucial, Counselor Stjarmas'de feels it would help seal their fate. The proceedings are taking place on Sat'rey. If you are willing, please comm me within two standard days. If I hear nothing, I will tell Stjarmas'de that my message was not received. But I hope you chose to come – it would be good to see you again," Sukja smiled a wishful grin and then the message ended.

Sukja didn't say that Hercjell was among those captured. Did she elude them still? Regardless, there was little to think about. Warren would go. He wanted closure of that incident. He activated the comlink.

### --- ###

_One last chapter – a reunion. Has the time apart changed what Warren and Ztar shared? If so, how? Will Warren be tempted to stay on Sat'rey or return to Earth? And what of all the unanswered questions? _

_The final posting will take place shortly. _


	20. Chapter 20

_This is it – final chapter. Has our story really come to an end? Hard to wrap my brain around it. _

_One last little emotional detail to wrap up – one final letting go. _

_Be certain to read the author's notes at the end._

**Chapter 20**

"So you're making progress getting rid of the Etagllot?" Warren asked. Ztar looked well and happy. Warren was pleased.

"Yes. This isn't the first trial, but our most important to date. Hercjell isn't among them, but we continue to make inroads into their organization. As Gtar-Cro says, we'll dismantle them one piece at a time."

"I know several humans have been returned to Earth. Thank you for that."

Ztar nodded. "There will likely be others. Unfortunately, not all those taken, from Earth or other worlds, will go home again." The voice was laden with regret.

"Just keep at it, Ztar."

"After a year of investigation, I hope we're finally getting to the bottom of their organization, at least within our Empire, yet I have my doubts." Ztar then let out a heavy sigh. "But I'd like to believe for a little while that we're close."

"It would be tempting to think that," Warren agreed as he looked off into the distance beyond the palace grounds from his old balcony. It was odd being back at the palace. He hadn't thought he'd ever step foot inside again. So many memories – good and bad. This was to be a quick visit, then back to the ship to wait for his turn to testify tomorrow at Etagllot trial taking place in Yaunra.

Ztar inched closer to Archangel and nodded. "I would agree – tempting."

Something in Ztar's voice gave Warren pause and he turned toward the Emperor. Ztar was watching him and Warren immediately recognized that old look. It sent a shiver through him and he pushed back from the rail.

"I should get back to the ship," he said with finality.

"I had planned for us to have dinner together – you and me…and Sukja, of course." Ztar's face showed hopefulness.

"I appreciate the offer, but I really need to get back." Warren insisted moving inside. Ztar stayed on Warren's heels as he re-entered his old chambers. The room was surprisingly unchanged from how he left a year earlier.

"Delme already has a special meal prepared. He'll be disappointed if it goes to waste," the Emperor encouraged.

"Please extend my apologies to the Chef. I'm sure you and Sukja will enjoy every bite," Warren countered continuing toward the table to snatch the PI he was lent while visiting.

In a quick move, Ztar positioned himself between the human and the door to the hallway. "Archangel, what is so pressing as to stop you from a meal? It's been a year. There's so much to talk about." A seductive smile followed the words.

The air was becoming thick with sexual tension. Warren wanted out as his heart beat quickened. "Next trip, Ztar. We'll get caught up then," he hedged.

As the Turzent edged close, Warren backed up one step, then another, bumping into the table. His heart rate went up another notch. Ztar was so close he could almost feel his breath. Old longings began to simmer beneath the surface. 'This goes nowhere,' he reminded himself. 'Get out and back to the ship.'

"Archangel, it's been so long…"

Ztar's eyes were dark with lust and it conjured up vivid memories of steamy sex and erotic pleasures that no lover Warren had could match. A wave of heat raced down his body as those memories stirred familiar longings.

"Really, Ztar. I need to go," Warren tried to sound determined as he attempted to slide around the Emperor's large frame. Ztar simply put out his arm to block Warren's escape, brushing his hand down the edge of his right wing. 'Oh god!' Warren thought with a quick inhale at the touch. To have those skilled hands run over his wings and through his feathers again... 'Shit, what am I thinking? Keep yourself together, Worthington!' he reprimanded sharply, but his body already had other ideas as desire surged through him.

The Turzent looked down at him, a sly smile across his face. Was he telepathically reading Warren or had their empathic connection been re-established? Either way, Warren knew he was in trouble. If Ztar even suspected Warren was getting aroused, things would escalate quickly.

Ztar felt flickers of longing in the empathic link that had re-established itself without any conscious decision on his part. Jharda, the magnificent woman she was, had told him if the opportunity presented, to accept it. She understood the bond between Ztar and Archangel and that it did not diminish Ztar's love for her. "I accepted Archangel's place in your heart from the start, my Emperor. I won't deny you a chance to be with him one last time." Now the opportunity was before him and Ztar wanted to take it.

Warren gently pushed the blocking arm aside and moved out from between Ztar and the table as fast as he could manage. "I know what you want, Ztar, and the answer is no," he said backing toward the exit, not trusting the Turzent wouldn't grab him from behind. Ztar followed so closely their bodies near touched. Warren swallowed hard and clenched his fist, trying to keep his reactions under control.

"Archangel, you know how wonderful it is between us. I want that again. Just one more time," the request was laden with longing.

Warren continued backing toward the door, but the feelings radiating off Ztar were intoxicating. He _did_ know how incredible Ztar could make him feel. Despite being straight, sex with Ztar was like nothing he'd experienced with anyone else. It had been intense and rapturous and he it had been a long year without anything even close. All those old desires were now reawakening with a vengeance. 'Warning! You're slipping down the slope!'

Taking another backward step, Warren was suddenly against the wall and not exactly where he had intended. The control panel for the door was to his right, just beyond reach. Ztar took advantage and put the palm of his outstretched arm against the wall and stood in front of Warren, effectively blocking further movement toward the control. With a will of its own, Warren's excitement grew with the nearest of his former lover.

"Ztar, I don't-" was all Warren got out before the Turzent's mouth was on his in a demanding kiss. The hands moved quickly up his back to the erogenous spot at the base of the wings and Warren was flooded with pleasure. 'Jesus, that feels _good_… No! Goddamn it!' This was exactly what he had told himself he wouldn't let happen.

But as Ztar pressed his mouth hard into Warren's, six years of habit allowed Ztar in. Fingers deftly massaged the right points in the right way, sending waves of delight from wing base to wing tip. No one else could do what Ztar could do to Warren in that way. The two lovers he'd had since leaving Sat'rey tried, but the efforts fell flat leaving Warren less than satisfied and frustrated. They just didn't know his body like the Emperor, nor did they have the empathic and telepathic feedback to draw upon that Ztar used. Through those mental abilities, Ztar was able to be the perfect sex partner. Warren had thought at the time that perhaps his sexual frustration was just a taste of what had driven Ztar to become the monster he was six years ago.

Warren was already vibrating from the sensations Ztar was eliciting. 'Shit! Shit! Shit! This wasn't going to happen! Oh God, what's he doing now?' Warren's mind swirled as he attempted to maintain control when Ztar's experienced fingers hit another perfect spot.

Prying his month away from Ztar's, he managed to find his voice. "Ztar, no." Warren knew he didn't sound convincing. His body was demanding exactly what his mind was trying to avoid. 'Damn Turzent! Less than 60 seconds and you want to be fucked!' he berated himself.

Ztar plunged in for another seductive kiss. 'Archangel, tonight we'll enjoy each other, then tomorrow you can go. What's the harm?' As Ztar slipped the words into Warren's mind, his tongue slipped further into Warren's mouth.

As Ztar held Warren tight to the wall, and he could feel how very aroused the Turzent was as Ztar pressed his groin against him. Ztar pulled his mouth away to kiss down to Warren's neck, nibbling his ear along the way, all the while he titillated the wings. 'Right there…oh god…yes! Shit – no!' Warren was quickly to the point where he didn't care about what he'd told himself earlier. The hands skillfully massaging the wings he wanted everywhere – over every inch of him. 'What _is_ the harm?' a little voice asked.

'Goddamn, mother fucking...' he swore, and then Ztar hit another erogenous point and he inhaled shakily, falling further into lust. 'Oh man oh man oh man.' He wanted what Ztar was offering and he wanted it bad, much to his chagrin. Then with a trembling sigh, he gave up the struggle and melted into the Turzent's powerful body as Ztar brushed his lips across Warren's before taking in his mouth once again. 'What the hell.' The PI fell to the floor with a thud.

Ztar immediately picked up on the change of mind and lifted Archangel off the floor to carry him over to the bed, mouths never parting. Clothing didn't stand a chance against Ztar's strength as he ripped the garments off both men, all the while making sure the arousal did not lessen. 'By the gods, I have missed you!' he 'pathed to Archangel, sending feelings of love and intense desire with the words. With the bothersome clothing discarded, Ztar began in earnest. Like a man dying of thirst, he drank in the human, rediscovering the perfect body he knew so well; every firm muscle, all the sensual textures, the taste and smell, flesh and feather – so erotic, so carnal.

'By the gods, I need you! I need this,' Ztar pushed the thought to the human. His mind and body whirled with the thrill of Archangel once again beneath him. It was almost too much emotion and sensation. He felt drunk.

The world had fallen quickly away as blissful pleasures poured over Warren. Ztar worked his magic and nothing else mattered. Ztar – the man whom he'd left a little more than a year ago, believing he'd never step back into the Emperor's world. The man Warren had given six years of his life to and thought that was enough. Yet here he was, in the Emperor's arms once more and not caring in the least that he had promised himself he would never do so again.

So many times Ztar had relived the memories of blissful, luxurious sex. No other lover satisfied him like Archangel, not even Jharda. No other bedmate had ever excited and made him burn with lust like the winged human. His precious, soul-saving Archangel. His Esserru. And now here he was with Archangel in his arms and bed where he thought he'd never be again. Thank the gods events had brought the human back to him, if even for only one glorious night. He would savor each and every moment he was gifted.

Ztar's hand moved across Warren's shoulder and down onto a wing. Knowing what the man wanted, Warren spread his wings across the bed and gave him full access. All the old signals, subtle signs, non-verbal cues came back as if they'd never been apart. The lovemaking took no thought – it simply happened. Warren could not contain moans of pleasure as Ztar's fingers probed down between the feathers to the highly sensitive membrane beneath. 'Dear god, I've missed this!' he admitted to himself. Then Ztar gently combed down through the feathers to their tips, sending shivers of delight through Warren right down to his toes. He arched up to take Ztar's mouth into his as a reward. The sensations were primal and overpowering nearly drove him to orgasm. He didn't want it to stop. He wanted Ztar – he wanted Ztar to want him.

Ztar wished the night could last forever. He'd draw out their time together as long as he could, and he was very skilled in that regard. As much as he wanted to be inside the human, that would wait. He slowed things down to leisurely rediscover Archangel – every inch of him. Moving his fingers between feathers, he reached the nerve-packed membrane that was the key to Archangel's incredible aerial maneuverability and was immediately rewarded with soft moans. The same nerves that sensed the slightest change in wind currents and pressure made the wings the largest erogenous area on the human's body. Archangel loved what Ztar could do to arouse him just by plying his skill to the feathered appendages. But there was a line to be watched – if the wings became over-stimulated, pleasure would quickly become painful discomfort. It was a line Ztar was careful not to cross as he combed his fingers down through the feathers multiple times as the human's arousal heightened.

'So long without this!' Warren declared in his mind as wave after erotic wave washed through him. He was drowning and welcomed it. It all felt so right. With almost jarring suddenness, he realized the subtle void of the past year was gone. 'Jesus, what is it between us? What's with this bond?' he asked puzzled, still unable to answer why he felt such a deep connection with the Turzent that he'd felt with no other person; not even with the great loves of his life.

After paying equal attention to both wings, Ztar moved away to focus on other attributes. He brushed his mouth against Archangel's lips, over his eyes, down the temple and across the ear to nuzzle the neck. He skillfully played his hand over the chest and abdomen that were rippled with muscles, and then further down to where this would eventually lead. Past the hip, down the leg, and back up again. One hand he slipped behind the small of the back, slid it up to the base of a wing to find the one special point he knew so well.

The strong hands roamed over his body, following the contours of muscle and bone, squeezing down in all the right places. The touch was firm, but not to the point of painful. Warren wanted that touch everywhere. His body writhed beneath Ztar as pleasure engulfed him. In a corner of his mind that still could think, he noted that Ztar was keeping his strength in check. The time Warren spent with Ztar before teaching him how to enjoy and let go without causing pain was holding. That was the last lucid thought Warren could form as fevered desire took control when Ztar's hand hit that particular spot on his wing base. "Oh god!" Warren cried out. He wanted Ztar to take him right then, but Ztar had other ideas. He grabbed the man's face and pulled him to savagely take his mouth.

Ztar continued the explorations for sometime, kissing, stroking, caressing, and massaging his way up and down Archangel. When he allowed it, Archangel would find Ztar's mouth for a heated kiss. The human ran his hands skillfully over Ztar, urging without words to move things along. He knew when Archangel wanted to bring the sex to its natural conclusion.

'Just one more thing first, my Archangel,' he thought to the human lovingly. 'Join with me,' he beckoned. Even his mental voice was breathy. Finally, the Emperor allowed the smoldering heat within him to burst into wild flames. Now he would have Archangel completely and wholly.

Warren knew what Ztar wanted – the semi-telepathic, full empathic immersion of their two minds, a psychic melding. Each would experience the feelings and sensations of the other in an escalating feedback loop. He gave the mental thumbs up and immediately felt the familiar presence in his mind. The sensation wasn't one of intrusion, just a simple awareness of another entity. Then came the flood of desire and sensation that Ztar was experiencing. Warren was instantly swept up in the maelstrom, and it took his breath away. Ztar trembled above him, obviously hit with Warren's feelings. Both were taken to a level of physical and mental bonding that non-telepathic beings could never experience.

Knowing what created the most pleasure in each other guided them and the result was blinding. Sex became all consuming. Nothing existed beyond the bed and the sensations. Time lost relevance as they devoured each other in raw, savage desire. And when Ztar shifted their positions to take him, Warren reached down for the mysterious, channeled energy and opened the door. As Ztar thrust deeply into Warren, rapturous waves swept over and through them, extending and amplifying the climaxes.

Ztar closed his eyes against the nearly unbearable ecstasy flowing from Archangel that permeated to his very soul. 'By the gods!' He was in heaven as he plunged in and out of his Archangel. After he finally came inside the human, Archangel climaxed and they reveled in the shared release. As sexual fever eased, he lowered himself atop his lover, resting his head on Archangel's chest and listened as the rapid heart beat and heavy breathing slowed.

Warren was drained, but more satisfied sexually than he'd been in a year. 'Jesus, why is it another man can do this to me? No, that's not right. Only Ztar can.' He ran his still shaky hand through Ztar's damp hair as they rested.

After a few minutes, Ztar recuperated enough to rise up on an elbow to look down into the incredible crystalline-blue eyes he still loved. "Stay with me. Don't go back," he asked, knowing that Archangel would say no.

Warren smiled up at Ztar. "You know I can't."

"Why not? We're good together. No one else can do for either of us what we do together. You know that." No one could come close to Archangel. Jharda was wonderful and sex with her was passionate, yet it didn't match the intensity – physically or mentally – of lovemaking with Archangel. He'd tried with Jharda; it was not the same.

Ztar ran his hand over Warren's stomach and down his leg. Warren closed his eyes against such a simple thing that threatened to reignite him. "That's the sex, Ztar. There's more to it."

"I'm not convinced," he argued. "I love you…I want you. Please stay."

The Emperor words and tone were conflicted, Warren noted. Looking into the depths of the chocolate brown eyes, they reflected not only Ztar's hope that Warren would stay, but his knowing that he would not. Without warning, Warren felt compelled to open his heart to the man that very much wanted to hear a certain three little words. After almost year apart, knowing Jharda was in Ztar's life, Warren felt safe in doing so. He knew he could tell Ztar – they were both strong enough. He gathered his courage.

"I love you, Ztar," Warren began and saw the Emperor's eyes widen. "But it's not the kind of love that you need. Mine is the love of deep friendship and the-best-roll-in-the-hay-I'll-ever-have love. It's just not quite love enough – you deserve more." Warren's heart was pounding from the confession. "I won't stay and allow you to risk the sort of love you really need – a deep, passionate love from a lifemate." Ztar's eyes quickly grew sad, but there was no hint of despair. "I think you have already found that in someone else. Don't jeopardize it by hanging onto feelings for me. Let them go. You and I both need to emotionally move on." Then he waited and watched.

Ztar drew in a breath and let it out slowly to still himself. Archangel had admitted his love, yet it came with qualifiers. He was not surprised. The empathic connection had told him as much before the human left for Earth a year earlier. Ztar had always held out hope it was a deeper love, but he sensed nothing other than truthfulness in Archangel's admission.

"You know about Jharda?" he asked, sensing the human did.

"Yes, I've known since before I left," Warren confessed that also. "She was not the reason," he added quickly so there would be no misunderstandings.

"How long had you known?" Ztar needed to know.

"I suspected it after your trip to check on her recovery."

The Emperor was surprised. "I thought I'd hid that so well," he admitted, feeling the guilt of his deception renew. "I'm sorry for lying to you. Is _that_ why you left?" the shame cut deep.

Warren shook his head. "No, Ztar. Not at all – don't believe that for an instant. I was happy when I thought you had found someone who could love you as you deserve. Jharda seemed right, considering you loved her once before."

Ztar sighed and eased slightly back from Archangel. "She is right for me and I do love her, but that doesn't change my love for you."

Warren drew his fingers through the black-crimson mane. "Perhaps it doesn't, but that needs to be put aside for the sake of your relationship with her. She deserves your total devotion. Our time together is over."

Ztar nodded. The words were truth. He needed to let go of the last of his feelings, and Archangel needed to do likewise, for the sake of both of their futures. That, though, was easier said than done. Ztar knew part of him would always love Archangel and that the deep bond they shared would be with him until his death.

"A pact then, my former lover. I will move forward with Jharda if you promise me you'll find someone who makes you as happy as she does me."

Warren smiled tenderly. Their good-bye a year ago was a physical parting. This was their emotional farewell. "I will do my very best," and he rose up to give Ztar a chaste kiss on the lips. "I'm sorry that it can't be different, but the sex was damn good." Warren laughed to lighten the mood.

"It was indeed!" the Turzent replied, sitting up with a grin. Warren followed suit.

"I think I might be ready for that meal now. I'm starving."

Ztar laughed and ran his hand through the human's tangle of golden waves, remembering with fondness how much Archangel ate. His high-speed metabolism required a high caloric intake just to maintain his body weight and Archangel and Ztar had just burned off a lot of calories. "Then let's get cleaned up and I'll comm Delme. He will be pleased his efforts were not wasted."

"Don't forget Sukja," Warren reminded. He looked forward to visiting with the Emperor's aide and catching up on his life. Tomorrow, Warren would testify and then it would be time to return home. Back to the new life he was carving out for himself; back to his friends and the only planet in the universe that his body and soul called home. Yet the thought of never again experiencing what only the Turzent could do to him in bed caused a sharp pang. 'Night's still young,' he told himself.

"After dinner, perhaps you and I could have a little dessert," he suggested salaciously. 'God, what a sex addict you are,' he chided himself with a mental chuckle. It took a moment for Ztar to catch the meaning Warren was projecting, but when the brown eyes widened and the Emperor smiled, Warren knew he understood.

"I think we'll want an extra large portion," and Ztar pulled his Archangel in for a kiss meant to take the human's breath away.

When Ztar finally released Warren's mouth, he was indeed breathless and in heat all over again. "To hell with dinner, Ztar. Let's go straight to dessert."

Laughing with delight, Ztar laid his once companion back into the pillows and gazed deeply into the crystalline-blue eyes he knew he would always love. "As you command, my Archangel." And once again, Ztar was in heaven with his Archangel.

### --- ###

Epilogue

Warren stepped out of the shuttle, dropped his duffle on the ground, and leapt into the air, not even waiting for the craft to depart. Five days cooped up in the courier ship was too long.

'Thank God the weather is good.' He'd dreaded that perhaps it was rainy and cold, but the sun shone brightly in cloudless skies and warmed him with its intensity. "Jesus, this feels so-o-o-o…right!" he proclaimed aloud to the blue heavens.

As he soared and swooped in joyous freedom, he reflected back on the past many days. The trial had gone accordingly to plan and the Etagllot scientists found guilty and sentenced to death for crimes against the Empire and its ruler and his court member. There would be no appeals and the sentenced carried out quickly. In fact, by the time Warren reached Earth, the deed may have already been done. Imperial justice was decisive and swift.

Returning to Sat'rey for the trial was a good decision. Warren was pleased about the time with Ztar. When he'd left Sat'rey a year ago, it hadn't felt like full closure. That was physical parting and the emotional parting hadn't really happened. Now that it had, Warren's whole being lighter and freer. The more he considered everything, the better he felt.

He let the feelings sweep over him like the winds. Ztar was behind him – emotionally, physically, even spiritually. Even as he was admitting to Ztar that he loved him, he realized it becoming past tense. He did not…not any longer. Not that way. He still loved the man, but as a friend. Visiting Ztar had helped Warren take the last step in letting go.

Riding the winds, the ecstasy of flight sank deep into his soul, taking with it the full realization of all the trip back to Sat'rey had accomplished. 'What does it feel like?' he asked himself searching deep within to name the feelings. Freedom. Lightness. Completion. Peace. And there was one more feeling that he had worked hard this past year to come to know – he felt good about himself.

Memories of long ago asserted themselves. Snatches of recollections sprang up of being young and filled with a joyous spirit, soaring high atop the world, feeling above all the Earth-bound mundane troubles and trivialities. That was a time when he loved himself and was filled with anticipation for the future. Maybe…just perhaps he was recapturing that in his fresh start.

Spreading his wings to the sun, he glided with the thermals and currents. He was looking forward to the coming years and the new life he was carving out. A life more dedicated to making a difference in the lives of individuals through his foundation. He may no longer be saving the world from the bad guys, but he _was_ saving and improving lives on a more personal level. It was what he was meant to do. It spoke to something deep within him. 'The healer of souls continues his work,' he allowed himself some pride.

Expanding his consciousness, he took in all that Mother Earth offered him within her heavens. Wind. Coolness. Sunlight. Warmth. Crisp freshness. Blues and whites. It felt so…so euphorically perfect.

The tears came without warning, but they of a joy that welled up from the soul. Warren felt closer to his old self than he had in many years. He recognized that he and Atichi had taken the same journey. Both had traveled an extremely difficult path of self-sacrifice, pain, and hardship; had decided not to be victims, but to use the circumstance forced upon them to its best advantage; and in the end found happiness and fulfillment in a new existence. He smiled at the thought of Sukja and Atichi – a happy couple at long last.

Higher he flew, soaring on both the winds and inner happiness. Life was good again. He felt good again. Then a sudden realization it hit him. If Ztar had not taken him from Earth, his life may still have been mired in pain and self-loathing, never really finding happiness. Ztar had stripped him of everything – home, wealth, friends, family; even his rights as a sentient being – down to the very bones of his existence. Ztar made Warren hit bottom and dwell there long enough to realize he wanted something different.

With all the crutches of his previous life gone, he was forced to rebuild himself with nothing but his own determination and strength of spirit. His rebuilding had been anchored unwittingly in Ztar's own transformation. He and Ztar had actually healed together, not quite in synch, but in tandem.

How different his life would have been without Ztar. The man had perhaps saved Warren from himself without ever intending to do so. 'My God, though, did my salvation have to involve walking through such hell? Couldn't it have come from an easier journey?" he asked the heavens. In his heart, though, he doubted that anything less could have shaken him from his half-happy, half-miserable existence where he was doing the same thing he'd done for years. Sometimes you do have to go through hell to finally decide to really change yourself and your life.

He came to a hover high above the blue-green world and looked to the vastness around him. Why had it taken him so long to see what he had just figured out? "Sometimes, my friend, it is not until the end of your journey that you can turn back and truly see where you've been and where you've arrived," the words came to him that Charles had spoken once many years before. 'Now I understand what you were trying to tell me, Charles. I see where I've been and how far I've come without realizing the journey I was on.'

Ztar had come first as a horror into Warren's life, but it was through living and overcoming that horror that he had healed. Perhaps Ztar had been a tool of whatever god or gods there were. Looking to the heavens, Warren reached out with his mind.

"Thank you, Ztar!" he sent out across vast ocean of space. 'You came into my life for a purpose; forced me turn my bad soil into good and made me prune off that which no longer served a purpose. _You_ are an Esserru whether you meant to be or not. I love you for it!' he sent the thoughts into space with every ounce of mental strength he had, visualizing the world so many light-years away that Ztar called home.

###

On Sat'rey, he and Jharda sat quietly in their palace chambers reading when a sudden feeling came over Ztar, warm and loving. A brief flash of Archangel flickered through his mind at the same time. He looked up at Jharda and smiled. When the Etagllot trial was concluded and Archangel had gone, she shared the news. Jharda was expecting their first child. Ztar never thought he could love someone as much as he did her at that moment.

She felt his gaze and looked up from her PI. Her smile was large and filled with love.

"I love you, my Jharda."

"And I you, my beloved."

The thought of the human lingered and the miracle that was Archangel filled him with intense gratitude all over again. 'Thank you, Archangel, wherever you are at this moment. I owe all this happiness to you, my Esserru.' He sent the thought out into space with love for the universe to do with it as it may.

-- Finis --

_It's a wrap. __I post this final chapter with both sadness and a sense of accomplishment. It's been a long journey through three books. The characters have become almost ingrained in me and leaving them (even for a while) is like leaving behind old friends. Perhaps this letting go business isn't only hard on Warren and Ztar :-)_

_I know there are issues hanging out there that haven't concluded. I'm leaving those doors open for another story(ies). But this particular chapter in Warren's life is complete. I like to think of the loose ends as reflective of real life - we often move on without everything buttoned up or all the answers known, sometimes by choice, sometimes against our wishes. As Moit'de said, "Complicated be distracting…focus on what plant need – all rest follow." Warren needed to return to Earth. That was the goal through all three books. All the other stuff was complications that could have diverted from that goal. The time had come for our favorite winged mutant to go home whether or not all the loose ends were tied up._

_Warren and we are left with unanswered questions about his the secondary lifeforce pattern, his possible connection to the Eshaaru, and how he survived the deadly virus. But he came away with one answer – the energy he manifests is not his own. _

_Ztar and Gtar-Cro will continue to battle the Etagllot. Will Jharda and Ztar marry? Ettwanae is out there. The mysterious telepath/telekinetic is lurking and advancing whose agenda no one knows. And why is Warren of interest in more than one way to unnamed others? The Etagllot have their projects, and they still want the nannites. Will Warren continue to be safe on Earth? Is Ztar right about the Etagllot's ultimate goal? _

_But other things have come full circle. Ztar and Jharda. Sukja and Atichi. Warren is well on his way to a much happier existence having traveled the healing path himself. Three circles complete. The trilogy concludes. _

_Thank you to my wonderful, insightful, loyal reviewers and faithful readers who made the writing worthwhile. And a heartfelt thank you to Focus SJS, Winchester-grl44, Louisestarfly, CriticalAngel, and Xrystofer – you are quintessential to what makes this medium so rewarding for authors. My writer's heart overflows with gratitude. Without you… _

_I'll be taking a break for while. Need time for the seeds of new adventures to spout and take root as our favorite gardener would likely put it. And so until next time (and I do intend there to be a next time), may your lives be filled with happiness and much good reading!_

_In deepest appreciation, _

_Echo Dancer_

"_When you write from the soul, the pen moves itself."_


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